You've Forgotten Who I Am
by CastlePhoenix
Summary: When Harry suffers amnesia, the job falls to Snape to help Harry regain both his memory and his skills. Will Snape be able to let go of his preconceptions? When Harry remembers just who Snape is, will he be able to forgive him in time? AU OOTP, No Slash
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is my first fanfic and as such I'm interested in perhaps getting a Beta who'd be interested in this sort of story. Mainly just as a guide and to provide a critique. I had a look at the Beta profiles but there are so many it's hard to find a suitable Beta. So if anyone knows or can recommend a good Beta I'd be interested to know :) This is going to be a Harry/Snape mentor story (No Slash). It's AU OOTP after the incident where Snape chucks Harry out of his office in "Snape's Worst Memory" Chapter. I hope to be able to update fairly quickly whilst I'm on holidays at the moment but once uni starts back updates may slow down.

Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter. Initial italics indicates text taken directly from Order of the Phoenix.

Chapter 1 _3rd - 4th April 1996_

'_Having fun?'_

_Harry felt himself rising into the air, the summer's day evaporated around him; he was floating upwards through icy blackness, Snape's hand still tight upon his upper arm. Then, with a swooping feeling as though he had turned head-over heels in midair, his feet hit the stone floor of Snape's dungeon and he was standing again beside the Pensieve on Snape's desk in the shadowy, present-day Potion master's study._

'_So,' said Snape, gripping Harry's arm so tightly Harry's hand was starting to feel numb. 'So ... been enjoying yourself, Potter?'_

'_N-no,' said Harry, trying to free his arm._

_It was scary: Snape's lips were shaking, his face was white, his teeth were bared._

'_Amusing man, your father, wasn't he?' said Snape, shaking Harry so hard his glasses slipped down his nose. _

'_I – didn't – '_

_Snape threw Harry from him with all his might. Harry fell hard on to the dungeon floor._

'_You will not repeat what you saw to anybody!' Snape bellowed._

'_No,' said Harry, getting to his feet as far from Snape as he could. 'No, of course I w-'_

'_Get out, get out, I don't want to see you in this office ever again!'_

As Harry hurtled towards the door, a jar of dead cockroaches slammed into the side of his head. He fell sharply against the door frame, but was able to right himself before the door slammed shut with an echoing bang. Feeling dizzy and nauseous Harry stumbled blindly down the dungeon corridor. Reaching a hand up to the left side of his head, his fingers met with a thick sticky substance. A sudden wave of dizziness washed over Harry and he leaned against the corridor wall before sinking to the ground in a dead faint.

XXXX

Harry woke to darkness and unfamiliar surroundings with no recollection as to where he was or how he had gotten here. He seemed to be in an unfamiliar stone corridor that looked like it belonged in the middle ages. Sitting up, against a wave of dizziness, Harry tentatively reached a hand up to feel the tender area on the left side of his head. The bleeding seemed to have stopped, only to have been replaced by a dull aching. Harry had bigger problems though: he had no idea where he was. Getting to his feet, he surveyed the area hoping that something might trigger a memory. When nothing was forthcoming Harry decided his best chance was to get outside and hopefully he would recognise the area. He hoped that he was close enough to Privet Drive to make it home before Dudley.

'This is just the sort of _stupid_ prank Dudley would pull' Harry grumbled to himself as he made his way up a corridor and towards a staircase.

He was still unsteady on his feet and moved slowly. Harry was surprised by the size of the place and slightly worried. He couldn't think of anywhere in Surrey that would be this big. It was almost as though he had wondered into the remnants of a castle. The odd thing was though that the castle appeared to be inhabited. Although he had yet to see anyone, the cleanliness and general homeliness of the place suggested it was in use.

'Blast you, Dudley!' Harry exclaimed, as he turned into a corridor that led up to what could only be described as an Entrance Hall. This was the last straw; he was well and truly out of his depth. Feeling weak from the climb up to the Hall, Harry staggered towards the main staircase and sat down. He put his face in his hands and breathed deeply, trying to steady his nerves as he thought furiously about how to get out of this latest predicament. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps, alerting him to another's presence. Too tired to hide, Harry resigned himself to his fate and raised his eyes to the newcomer.

'Mr Potter'

The tone was not angry but neither was it kind. In fact it was stern, laced with surprise and perhaps the smallest amount of concern, which suggested that she was well acquainted with him. Harry looked at her more closely, but could say with almost one-hundred percent certainty that he had never laid eyes on this woman before. She spoke with a Scottish accent, which was disconcerting. He couldn't possibly be in Scotland, could he? Her greying hair was pulled back in a strict bun and a pair of square glasses perched upon her nose. She was dressed oddly in green robes that spoke of past eras and most bizarrely carried a stack of rolled parchments in her arms.

Getting to his feet gingerly, Harry stood to face her. The woman let out a small gasp before rushing to his side. It was only now that Harry remembered he hadn't wiped the blood off his face. Thinking back he realised he probably looked a right mess; with dried blood down the left side of his face and clothes. It was only now that Harry noticed what he was wearing. It appeared to be some kind of school uniform, but he also appeared to be wearing robes over the top. Puzzled by his attire he checked his pockets and was surprised when his fingers closed around a wooden stick, which gave off the slightest warmth at his touch, as though calling to an old friend. He was shaken out of his thoughts as the woman reached a hand out to him, sitting him back down on the stairs.

'Mr Potter, what has happened here?' she asked.

'I'm sorry Ma'am, but I don't know who you are,' there was a sharp intake of breath from the woman, before Harry continued 'where I am or what happened to my head'.

There was a slight pause, as though the woman was judging the validity of his statement before she replied in a slightly kinder tone 'I am Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry'. A slight pause and then 'I presume you remember Hogwarts?'

The name was not unfamiliar to Harry. He had read it just the other week, on the back of one of the mysterious letters that he had been sent. It was odd though, he was sure he had heard of it only a week ago but he was almost equally sure that the time he was thinking of was almost five years ago. And then he realised what was missing. He knew he was currently fifteen, but the last memories he recalled were those of his eleven year old self. He had lost almost five years of memories!

'Yes...yes, I know _of _Hogwarts' Harry replied dazedly.

His thoughts were running wild as he realised the implications of his understanding. Just as quickly he began to put it together.

So, I must attend Hogwarts, and have been for the last four years. Which means I only stay with the Dursleys for the summer holidays? Well that was good news for sure. But what is this place, it's not like any school I've ever been to and it definitely looks like the school is a castle, which is odd. There was something he was missing though and then it hit him.

'Wait, Professor Mc – McGonagall, what did you call this place,' he rushed out 'a school of what?'

'Why, Witchcraft and Wizardry of course. What is going on Mr Potter?' said McGonagall.

'I, I don't know. I'm sorry Professor but I really don't know. The last thing I remember is receiving numerous Hogwarts letters at the Dursleys before waking up here. I never got to open one of those letters...' Harry trailed off thoughtfully.

Seeing the look McGonagall was giving him he quickly added 'I know that was when I was eleven and that I'm fifteen now, but I honestly can't remember anything in between'.

He sighed dejectedly before looking up at McGonagall, who was looking at him pityingly.

'Come Mr Potter, you need the Hospital Wing'.

XXXX

McGonagall guided Harry quickly and discreetly towards the Hospital Wing, constantly looking out for Umbridge. It was imperative that she did not see Potter as he was now. If the ministry or the prophet were to get wind of this it would spell disaster for the Order and Harry. As she walked, supporting Harry as he was still weak on his feet, she was thinking frantically, trying to come up with a solution. It had to be the worst possible timing Minerva thought. Albus had been driven from the school and had been unheard of for the last few weeks. He had told her that he was travelling on important Order business and was not to be disturbed, except in an emergency.

'Well you can't get much worse than this' Minerva grumbled as she walked.

Reaching the Hospital Wing, McGonagall sat Harry down on a bed before rushing to Madam Pomfrey's office.

'Poppy, quickly I'm in need of assistance'

'Minerva, what has happene...' she trailed off as she caught site of Harry. 'Mister Potter! What have you done to yourself now!'

Poppy bustled over to his side, whipping out her wand as she went and casting a diagnostic charm.

'When will you learn Potter, you need to take better care of yourself' Poppy tutted at a confused Harry.

'Poppy, I'm afraid there's a problem. Potter seems to be suffering from some kind of amnesia. He has forgotten everything about Hogwarts; his last memories are from when he was eleven, _before_ he received his letter' McGonagall added significantly.

Poppy stopped her bustling, sharing a worried look with McGonagall before turning her attention back to Harry.

'Do you know who I am Harry?' she asked.

'I'm sorry, no' he replied apologetically.

'Alright,' she cast another worried glance back at McGonagall before continuing, 'I'm going to run a series of tests on you Harry and ask you a number of questions. I'm also going to fix your head wound up and check you for any other injuries. Is that alright?'

Having obtained Harry's consent, Poppy set up a curtain around his bed allowing him to change behind it, whilst she spoke with McGonagall. Behind the curtains, Harry listened carefully as the two women spoke in hurried whispers.

'Do you have any idea how he came to be in this state Minerva?'

'None at all, I found him seated on the main stairs during first period. Now that I think about it I noticed he wasn't at breakfast and that both Ms Granger and Mr Weasley appeared anxious. I thought nothing of it though given the current climate and with Dolores always on the prowl' she added bitterly.

'Hmm, well it's obvious that he has suffered some kind of head trauma which has caused the amnesia. The question is how did he come by such an injury? I've also never dealt with such significant amnesia,' she paused briefly before resuming in a slightly hesitant tone 'I think it best if we inform Severus of the situation Minerva. With Albus gone, he is the most experienced in the mind arts without involving St Mungos.'

'Yes, you're quite right Poppy. It is of the utmost importance that Dolores and the ministry do not get wind of this. Very well, I shall fetch Severus.'

The sound of receding footsteps marked McGonagall's departure. There was a pause and then approaching footsteps. Harry had just enough time to finish buttoning his shirt and to lie down on the bed before Madam Pomfrey rounded the curtain and began her examination.

XXXX

Severus Snape was in a foul mood. He had woken hung-over and with a splitting headache, courtesy of his drinking binge. For a few minutes he had been unable to recall what had triggered his rare loss of control and subsequent drinking session, which had left him in a stupor that would have rivalled his father's.

'Potter,' he spat out.

That was what had caused him to indulge excessively in Firewhiskey. With this recollection all of his righteous anger returned.

'Just typical' he fumed silently, 'I leave the room for five minutes and the boy _has_ to snoop. It is as though it is impossible for him to do anything other than pry into other people's personal matters.'

This was not the only reason he had indulged in the Firewhiskey. He had lost control. He had assaulted a student; the one thing he had been sure he would never do.

'Merlin, help me if I managed to hit him' he groaned aloud.

There was a small part of him that couldn't help but feel hopeful that he had managed to hit Potter; had managed to cause Potter a fraction of the pain that he had experienced this night. He had been unable to sleep. His thoughts had been constantly drawn to that memory; reliving that greatest mistake over and over, until he had drunk so much that he had lost consciousness. As such, he had woken late and had only now realised that he had missed most of his morning classes.

'Damn it, damn it all!' he growled as he hastened to dress.

He left his personal quarters, robes billowing as he hurried towards the potions classroom. As expected his class had taken a free period, for which he could only blame himself. The bell for lunch rang, and with no desire to face his colleagues whilst in this state (he could still smell the trace of alcohol on his breath) he returned to his quarters for a late breakfast and a shower. Whilst eating he was interrupted by the flaring of his fireplace. Looking over he found Minerva's face floating in his fireplace.

'Severus,' she stated haughtily, 'where have you been? I've spent half the morning trying to track you down. Why weren't you in your class this morning?'

'Good morning to you as well Minerva' Snape replied with his trademark sneer in place. Well, at least she has the goodness to look abashed he thought as he crouched down by the fireplace.

'So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit' Snape enquired, ignoring her questioning.

'A,' she paused 'situation has arisen. I would be most grateful if you could make your way up to the Hospital Wing as soon as possible'. Without waiting for a reply and with a small 'pop' she disappeared. Annoyed by her abrupt dismissal, Snape stood up and finished his breakfast before heading up to the Hospital Wing.

There was only one occupant in the Hospital Wing when Snape reached it twenty minutes later. The teenager was sitting with his back to Snape but on hearing the door, turned around.

'Potter,' Snape growled in anger. 'Of all the people to run into', he seethed silently.

'Good morning, Professor Snape'

Snape was startled. Not only had Potter just addressed him as Professor but he had done so without the normal defiance and resentment. Instead it had been a neutral, if wary tone with which he had been addressed. Realising he had been standing still for a minute without replying, Snape sent Potter a glare before ignoring him and storming into Poppy's office.

He entered Poppy's office to find both Poppy and Minerva examining a medical chart. At the sound of the door they both looked up.

'Oh Severus, thank goodness you're here! It's much worse than I thought and I really am out of my depth with this mind magic. Can you believe the boy had no idea about how his parent's died?' Poppy gushed as she made her way hurriedly around the desk, bringing with her the file she had been examining.

'Poppy, I have no idea what you're on about. Kindly cease your babbling and start from the beginning' Snape said gruffly. His encounter with Potter had thrown him and had only served to make him angrier at the boy. He had no interest in idle chit chat at present and wanted nothing more than to return to his rooms.

'Why it's Potter, Severus,' Minerva cut in, 'he is suffering amnesia. I found him this morning in the Entrance Hall. He had suffered a severe head wound, at some point in the night I imagine and had lost quite a bit of blood.' At this Snape paled considerably. He couldn't possibly have hit Potter. He had left of his own volition. His thoughts were interrupted as Minerva continued talking.

'Add to that he has no recollection of his time at Hogwarts and as Poppy was just saying she had to explain both Lily's and James' deaths to him as well as a bit about his time at Hogwarts.'

'Poor boy doesn't know what's hit him,' Poppy said softly, 'I'm going to administer Dreamless Sleep Potion for the moment but I'd like you to have a look at him Severus. It's possible the memories have been hidden in his mind and would be accessible by Legilimency. If not it's possible that the memories could be restored by potions – but that is your area of expertise Severus – although a simple Restorative Draught may be beneficial to give also.'

Initially Minerva's comments had left Snape worried that he had indeed seriously assaulted a student; no less than Harry Potter himself. As Poppy had started speaking a smirk had begun to spread across Snape's face as he realised

'Potter is faking,' Snape said smugly, 'I saw him outside; he greeted me as 'Professor Snape'.'

'That's impossible Severus,' Minerva responded sternly, 'Poppy just spent over an hour conducting a standard memory test. He failed with regard to all Hogwarts' related questions. With the loss of his Hogwarts' memories he also has no recollection of anything he has been taught in the last five years. Although his magic is intact, he was unable to perform even first year spells.'

'Potter's having you along for a ride. I've told Albus time and time again, he is simply an attention seeking brat, who wastes other people's precious time.' Snape responded angrily.

'Enough,' shouted Poppy, as Minerva looked ready to respond to Snape. 'There's an easy way to settle this.' She stalked out the door towards Potter's bed. The boy was sitting up in bed staring off into space.

'Mr Potter, kindly tell me if you recognise this gentleman'

'Yes Ma'am, he's Professor Snape' Potter responded quietly.

'See,' hissed Snape, 'I told you he was making up more attention seeking stories'. But he couldn't help but wonder why Potter had just given himself up so easily. He sneered at Potter but before he could leave Potter spoke up.

'That's all I know about him. His name and that I met him at Hogwarts. He's the only person I remember and this is strange, I know, but it's like there is some connection. It's not good or bad, it's just there; to remind me that I know him. The weird thing is, for the life of me I can't tell you whether he's my best friend or my worst enemy.'

Harry watched the responses of the adults around him. Both Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey were looking at him sadly, but Professor Snape was the most interesting to watch. He had been sneering but a look of shock and perhaps understanding had flitted across his face before being hastily hidden behind a blank mask. A blank mask which Harry could tell was well practiced. He wondered at that but was interrupted by Madam Pomfrey.

'Well, Severus, is it possible? Could this connection exist? It would explain why he is able to recall you alone.'

'It is more than possible,' Snape conceded grudgingly. 'I have had the unfortunate task of attempting to teach _Mister Potter_' he spat out Harry's name 'Occlumency for the past few months. It would appear that despite no _obvious_ improvement during lessons he has in fact managed to form a 'connection' with my mind.'

Snape seemed to have said all that he was willing to say in front of Harry because he turned on his heel and strode back into Madam Pomfrey's office.

'Don't worry about him Harry, we'll sort everything out' Madam Pomfrey said comfortingly before handing him a Dreamless Sleep potion. Harry downed the potion and was asleep within minutes. Poppy and Minerva watched him fall asleep before entering Poppy's office to find Snape pacing agitatedly and muttering to himself. He looked up at the sound of the door and sent them both a fierce glare.

'Well?' he demanded.

'He's asleep,' replied Poppy. 'I've given him Dreamless Sleep; he won't wake for a while. I must ask that you explain the connection in its entirety Severus. It may be vital in restoring his memory.'

'If that's all, I think I'll leave you two to discuss the technicalities and I will contact Albus immediately. We may need to organise alternative arrangements for Potter depending on the time it takes for him to regain his memory and control of his magic,' said Minerva. With that she departed leaving Snape and Madam Pomfrey alone.

XXXX


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 _4th - 5th April 1996_

Snape scowled as he sat down. Poppy followed his lead and took a seat behind her desk before looking pointedly at Snape.

'Well?'

'As I said before Poppy, I have been teaching Potter occlumency at the insistence of the Headmaster' he began. 'What Potter has described is not unheard of. The bond is formed from a meeting between two minds. It is possible that whilst learning occlumency, some minds may become' he paused, searching for the correct description '_receptive_ to the mind of their instructor. The connection is generally insignificant allowing the student to recognise the instructor's mind at a subconscious level. It is my understanding that when such bonds do form it is because an exchange occurs, such that Potter has inadvertently tuned himself into a small part of my mind' he said bitterly.

'What are the consequences of such a bond Severus?' Poppy asked. 'Will there be any side effects?'

'As far as I am aware the bond acts only as a protective mechanism,' Snape replied. 'The instructor can never maliciously harm the mind of their student, as in essence they would be harming a part of their own mind. As to what Potter will experience, I cannot say for sure. I believe the bond is currently working in a protective manner. The damage caused by his memory loss, I would regard as extensive enough for his mind to have employed all safety measures. In doing so he has unconsciously activated the bond as a trigger to perhaps regain his memories. I am sure Albus would be more knowledgeable on the specifics though' he finished.

Poppy leaned back in her chair before summoning a previously abandoned cup of tea to her. She applied a warming charm before sipping absent-mindedly, mulling over the finer points of Severus' explanation. Looking over at Severus, who appeared to be deeply lost in thought, a query occurred to her.

'What about you Severus?' Poppy said, breaking into Severus' train of thought. 'Will you experience any side effects? What affect does the bond have on you? You suggested that Potter has some kind of subconscious awareness of you. Is it reciprocated?'

As she spoke she watched Severus' face closely. At the mention of a reciprocation his face had taken on an odd closed looked.

'I am not aware of any such reciprocation' he replied testily. 'Nor would I expect someone of Potter's abysmal calibre to have the capabilities to form such a bond. I am surprised that he even had the ability to recognise the trace of my own mind, given his own big-headedness.'

Poppy eyed him suspiciously at the end of his tirade. The closed look and his subsequent 'Potter insults' had confirmed that he was hiding something. Knowing just how stubborn he could be she let it pass for the time being.

'Very well Severus, it seems that we know all that we can at the present time,' said Poppy. 'Unless you know how he came by his injury, I suggest we reconvene at another time once I have spoken to the Headmaster about the most appropriate action for Mr Potter'.

'As you wish Poppy' he replied smoothly before turning on his heel and exiting the wing, to return to his dungeon.

XXXX

It was not until well past curfew that Snape received Dumbledore's call. He had been quietly reading when Fawkes had deposited a note summoning him to the Hog's Head immediately. Grumbling at the hour and his abrupt summons he pulled on his outer robe before hurrying up from the dungeons and out into the night. He walked briskly in the cool spring air pondering how much Dumbledore would know by now. Merlin help him if Dumbledore realised how Potter came by his injury. He'd be lucky to escape with his life. He reached the Hog's Head and approached Aberforth at the bar. He was cleaning a tumbler with a well worn rag; catching sight of Snape he eyed him suspiciously before nodding reluctantly towards the backroom. Snape stared levelly at Aberforth, holding his gaze, before turning and heading in the direction motioned. Snape's unsavoury behaviour the night the fateful prophecy was given had left Aberforth wary of Snape and Snape was often only grudgingly allowed entry.

Stepping into the room, Snape was greeted by a travel worn, grim faced Albus Dumbledore.

'Ah, Severus,' Dumbledore began, 'I'm glad you could make it. Would you care for some tea? Or perhaps something stronger?' he enquired, holding up a bottle of Firewhiskey.

Snape grimaced and accepted a glass of Firewhiskey. If the grim look Albus had about him was anything to go by the meeting was going to be a long one. Snape settled himself comfortably by the fire before looking expectantly at Dumbledore.

'I have spoken to both Poppy and Minerva, Severus' Dumbledore began gravely. 'Harry's condition is stable. You remain the only person he remembers, although his memory is limited to only recognition of you as a person in his life, not even as his Potion's Master.' Dumbledore paused as though expecting Severus to respond with some acerbic remark about Harry. Severus made no move to interrupt and instead maintained his steadfast glare at the fire. He knew that if Dumbledore knew how Potter had come by his injury it would be best to keep his mouth shut lest he dig himself into a deeper hole than he was already occupying. At Severus' continued silence Dumbledore continued.

'As to how Harry came by his injury,' at this Snape snapped his eyes up from where he had been staring into the fire. He noticed immediately that Dumbledore's eyes had lost any twinkle; instead they had taken on a hard glint mixed with disappointment. Unable to hold Dumbledore's gaze, Severus hastily dropped his eyes back to the fire, determined to remain unaffected by Dumbledore's disappointment.

'Minerva has informed me,' Dumbledore continued 'after having spoken to Miss Granger and Mister Weasley that they last saw Harry at dinner before he left for an occlumency lesson with you Severus.' Here Dumbledore paused and eyed Severus, who resolutely continued to stare at the fire.

'Is there something you wish to tell me Severus?' Dumbledore asked, surveying Snape over his half moon glasses. His tone was one of warning. Recognising this as his only chance to offer an explanation Snape resignedly moved his gaze away from the fire and back to Dumbledore.

'We were interrupted at the start of the lesson by Draco,' Snape began. 'Montague had been found and I went up to the Hospital Wing to determine how he was. I left Potter, with strict instructions that we would resume the lesson the next evening. In my haste I left Potter alone in my office, assuming he would leave immediately.' Snape's tone took on a bitter quality as he allowed his hatred of Potter and his absolute humiliation that Potter had seen perhaps the worst of his memories to colour his tone. His face took on an ugly scowl as he finished his explanation 'the impudent brat had the audacity to enter my Pensieve. That is where I found him when I returned; basking in the glory of his bullying toe-rag of a father. In my anger I threw him from me and as he left the room I threw a jar of cockroaches at him.' He paused before looking at Dumbledore beseechingly, 'I swear Albus; I never meant to harm him. I was angry and lost control. It will not happen again.'

As Snape tailed off his voice lost the anger with which it had been suffused, he dropped his gaze to the floor waiting patiently for his dismissal. Dumbledore, who had been studying him carefully, saw that he truly was remorseful that he had lost control. He was still angry that Harry had invaded his Pensieve, oh that was clear, but Severus' actions had not been malicious.

'What memory was it that he saw Severus?' Dumbledore asked. He had his suspicions; only a memory with Lily could have caused Severus to act so irrationally.

Snape did not raise his eyes from the ground but remained in his stooped position with his hands clasped between his knees and his shoulders and neck bowed.

'The lake, after our Defence against the Dark Arts OWL' he said softly.

He knew it was all he needed to say. Dumbledore, who knew more about him than any other person, would know exactly which memory he spoke of.

'Very well, Severus,' Dumbledore spoke to the dejected form of his Potion's Master, 'look at me please.' He waited until Snape had raised his eyes. The normally emotionless eyes were clouded with grief and humiliation, for the briefest of seconds, before Severus pulled himself together and the mask slipped back into place. Dumbledore sighed to himself, saddened that Severus still continued to lock his emotions away after all these years, even from him who had seen him at his lowest. Dumbledore steeled himself before fixing Severus with his piercing gaze.

'If you ever harm a student again Severus, it will not only be your job on the line' he stated calmly and coldly. He waited until he was sure that his message had sunk in and been understood before turning his attention back to the tea tray and selecting a delicate dessert; allowing Severus the time he needed to compose himself.

Severus was in no doubt that Dumbledore would fulfil his declaration if he ever stepped over the line again. The fury and power behind Dumbledore's gaze had been enough to make even the stoutest of men cower. He watched as Dumbledore fussed over his mini tart, grateful for the few minutes to compose himself. He had been unbalanced before; letting his emotions get the better of him. It was a weakness he could not afford to show. His position between two of the most powerful wizards in the world was taxing but it was his burden to bear and his alone. By suffering alone, he convinced himself that he was paying his dues for his part in Lily's murder.

Satisfied that his Potion's Master had composed himself Dumbledore prepared himself for the next part of the discussion. He knew that Severus would fight it tooth and nail but it was the best and perhaps safest option Harry currently had.

'Now that we have established how Harry came by his injury, I think it is important that we discuss how to best deal with Harry at the moment'.

'I hardly think that is a matter in which I will be involved Headmaster,' Snape replied sardonically.

'On the contrary Severus, you are perhaps the best placed to facilitate Harry's full recovery.'

Snape sputtered wordlessly as he watched an infuriating twinkle creep back into Dumbledore's eye.

'I don't know what you are up to Headmaster, but I intend to have no part in it. In case you have forgotten, Potter and I do not get along. The boy is as arrogant as his father and just as likely to break the rules. Besides Albus, you surely haven't forgotten so quickly just whom it was who harmed your _precious_ 'Golden Boy?' he replied scathingly. Satisfied that Albus could find no flaw in his argument he sat back smugly in his chair.

'You are quite right Severus; it is only right that having harmed Harry you should play some role in his recovery. After all, the bond between you both may just be the key to Harry completely regaining his memories. Not to mention he will need a tutor to help him regain control of his magic and of course prepare him for his OWLs,' Dumbledore finished.

His words were met by stunned silence. Dumbledore looked amusedly at his Potion's Master whose mouth was opened in shock. Undoubtedly due to the fact that his own argument had provided Dumbledore with all the excuse he needed to assign Severus the job of protecting and teaching Harry.

'I have it all worked out Severus,' Dumbledore continued, taking advantage of the momentary lack of protest from Severus. 'The Easter holidays begin tomorrow. Harry will return with you to Spinner's End for the next two weeks. Poppy has informed me that with memory restoration potions and a little help on your part, Harry's memories should be mostly restored within at least a month. As such, you are to ask Dolores as Headmistress for extended leave, which you are quite within your rights to obtain given you have taught for fifteen years and never once taken a holiday. At the end of the two week school holiday period, Minerva will inform Dolores that Harry has been excused from school due to family circumstances. Again this is well within school rules and should satisfy Dolores and the Ministry.'

Having overcome his shock Severus listened to Dumbledore's plan with growing horror. To have Potter living with him at Spinner's End. Was Dumbledore mad? It was bad enough when he had to return there himself. But to have the spawn of Potter with him, it would be unbearable. They would not last two days with this arrangement, let alone a month, he thought angrily.

'This will not work Albus,' he said warningly. 'You know how much I despise the boy and you know how much I despise Spinner's End. You truly could not have thought of a worse punishment, the boy will be the death of me' he finished bitterly. It would have been better if I'd killed the brat, he thought sarcastically.

'Do not exaggerate Severus; it will not kill you to have Harry there. As I have often reminded you Harry is much more like Lily in temperament than he is James. I can only hope that you see it someday before it is too late.' Perhaps then you will finally begin to allow yourself to heal, he finished to himself.

'So, I have no say in the matter?' Snape continued. He refused to take this lying down. 'It is my house after all Dumbledore, but even there you are my master it would seem.' Snape knew it was a low blow, and was only half-heartedly satisfied by the wince and pained expression which crossed Albus' face. He knew deep down he would have to accept the Potter boy in his home but he was unwilling to accept it yet. 'Besides, I would hardly think Spinner's End constituted the safest place to house Potter. Why not send him to the mutt. I'm sure he'd more than enjoy having Potter for a month. They could play happy families and bond over their shared love for Potter senior with stories of his brilliance. Particularly his brilliance in tormenting me, four on one' he spat bitterly.

'Enough Severus,' Dumbledore cut over him sternly and Severus stopped abruptly. 'It does you no service to continue this grudge. James is dead and Harry is not James. Sirius is not the man he was and as much as he would love to have Harry there he cannot help him. You know as well as I do Severus that the bond Harry shares with you will greatly assist him to regain his memories completely. As to the safety of Spinner's End, do not insult yourself by implying you do not already have the highest security on the property. Not to mention, Lord Voldemort' Snape winced at the name 'will hardly come looking for Harry at your residence, which I'm sure you have yet to allow him access?' he looked over at Snape and received a sharp nod in return. 'When Voldemort does find out that Harry has not returned to school and believes he is instead with his relatives, I am sure he will be left alone. Tom is no fool; he knows he cannot touch Harry when he is there. If he requires further convincing, which I doubt given his obsession over the prophecy, it will be up to you Severus to reassure him that Harry Potter is untouchable whilst there.'

Dumbledore paused and looked expectantly at Severus.

'As you wish, Headmaster' he replied inclining his head in a stiff acknowledgement.

'Well, Severus, I shall not keep you here any longer,' Dumbledore said as he stood to leave, wrapping his travelling cloak tightly around him. 'I expect you to talk to Dolores tomorrow morning and arrange your leave. You may take Harry tomorrow afternoon when the rest of the students are leaving. I will have Minerva explain the situation to him. It is imperative that you are not seen with Harry though. It would be best if he wears his invisibility cloak. Since you would normally apparate home you'll have to take Harry side-along. I will be in touch with you once you are settled. I must return to the Order now, good luck Severus.' With that he turned on his heel and disapparated, leaving Severus alone to make his way back to the school.

XXXX

The next morning Severus rose early and walked briskly along the corridors to meet with Umbridge. He had no desire to be in such close proximity to the woman this early in the morning but Dumbledore's orders were clear. He had no idea how to go about obtaining leave and was hoping that given Umbridge had few problems with him she would ask few questions. Approaching her office door, Snape sneered softly at the "Headmistress" label which adorned her door. As if she could ever replace Albus Dumbledore he thought scathingly. Although he had been angry at Dumbledore last night, he knew that Dumbledore was the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts had seen.

He knocked on the door and received a sickly sweet "Enter" from within. It always surprised him that it was not a deep croak given her likeness to a toad. He entered swiftly and closed the door behind him with a snap, causing Umbridge to look up from what she had been writing.

'Ah Severus,' she simpered, 'what can I do for you so early in the morning?'

'I wish to take leave until June.'

'Really, and what is the reason behind your proposed leave of absence?'

Snape noted that her question had taken on a dangerous tone and he realised he'd have to be cautious so as to not arouse suspicion.

'I found out a close cousin has died suddenly overnight,' he invented. 'The death was unexpected and I would appreciate leave to deal with some family matters which have arisen. I have leave accumulated from my fifteen years of teaching and I'm sure you would be able to find a replacement Potion's Master who would satisfy your excellent teaching standards.'

She had looked suspicious but the mention of being able to appoint her own replacement Ministry loving Potion's Master seemed to have swayed her otherwise. Snape wondered vaguely if he'd get his job back at the end of his leave. Knowing how incompetent the Ministry was though he wasn't overly worried.

'Of course Severus, I shall arrange it for you by breakfast and you can leave this afternoon. My condolences to your family at this sad time,' she added as an afterthought. She had already returned to her work, no doubt already thinking of a replacement.

'Thank you, Dolores. I shall see myself out' he replied stiffly before exiting.

Having arranged his leave he returned to his quarters to pack his belongings.

XXXX

All that remained now was to collect Potter. He had been assured by Minerva at lunch that she had explained the entire situation to Potter and that he would be ready and waiting for Severus at the specified time. Snape doubted Potter could ever organise himself to fit another's schedule and thus it was with an angry scowl in place he entered the Hospital Wing; only to find Potter sitting on the edge of his bed, trunk packed and waiting expectantly for him. Momentarily sidelined, Snape rearranged his scowl into one of irritation before addressing the boy in a biting manner.

'Well Potter, I trust everything has been explained to you?'

'Yes sir.'

'Very well, I hope you've got everything you need Potter because we will likely not be returning until June.'

'I think so sir,' the boy replied hesitantly. 'Professor McGonagall said she got a house elf and my friends to pack my belongings for me.'

Snape sent Potter a puzzled look. The way the boy had spoken of 'friends' as though it was an absurd notion that he could ever have such things had left Snape wondering if Potter had not only lost his memories but his mind.

'Put on your cloak Potter, we're leaving' he said roughly. With that he grabbed Potter's trunk and shrank it before putting it in his pocket. He looked over to where Potter's face was floating in mid air. 'Keep up and don't make a noise.'

He turned on his heel and marched out of the Hospital Wing. He strode quickly down the hallways and out into the grounds, admonishing stragglers who were going to miss the train if they moved any slower. When he reached the gate he stopped and waited quietly. With no one in ear shot he addressed the surroundings in a stern whisper.

'Grab my arm Potter, and hold on tight. Do not let go until I tell you.'

His words were obeyed almost immediately and he felt Potter grasp his forearm tightly with both hands. Without further ado he turned on his heel and disapparated to Spinner's End.

XXXX

**A/N**: Coming up we find out how Harry's coping


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 _5th April 1996 (Friday Afternoon)_

Harry had the sudden sensation that his entire being had been forced into a small narrow tube. It lasted less than a second before he felt solid ground beneath his feet once more. He had no idea what had happened and fought the urge to vomit as he raised his head to take in his surroundings. His jaw dropped. The gates of Hogwarts had disappeared to be replaced by a dilapidated neighbourhood of identical run-down brick houses. There was a dull, miserable feel to the air and Harry shivered involuntarily; this was not a nice neighbourhood. He knew instantly that the Dursleys would never be caught dead in a place like this. To top off the miserable atmosphere it was beginning to rain.

'Let go, Potter,' an angry voice hissed at him from beside him.

Harry jumped. He'd completely forgotten that he was still holding tightly onto Professor Snape's forearm and let go hastily. If he'd learnt one thing about this man already, he did not tolerate disobedience.

'Follow me Potter,' Snape said gruffly.

Harry nodded before realising he was still covered by the invisibility cloak, but Snape had already moved off. Harry followed cautiously, taking in his surroundings. They'd turned onto a street named Spinner's End. A disused mill chimney filled the immediate sky line, looming over the identical town houses. They were almost at the end of the row and still Snape showed no sign of stopping. It wasn't until he'd passed the last house on the row that he stopped abruptly.

'Take this Potter and memorise it,' he said, thrusting a piece of parchment out for Harry to take.

Harry unrolled it and read _'Severus Snape resides at 118 Spinner's End'_. Confused, Harry looked up to Snape, a question on his lips.

'Think about what you just read Potter, surely even you can manage that,' Snape answered his unasked question sarcastically, 'and give me that parchment once you're done.'

No sooner had Harry thought the address he was distracted by the appearance of another identical house where none had been previously. Harry's mouth dropped open in surprise. He knew that before his injury he had been well accustomed and had used magic regularly. Without the memories though, Harry felt like his eleven-year old self where every little aspect of magic surprised and delighted him. Shaking himself out of his stupor he quickly passed the parchment back to Snape before he became impatient.

Snape took the parchment and promptly set it on fire before walking up and opening the front door to reveal a dark and dusty corridor. Harry hastened inside and removed his cloak as he heard Snape shut the front door. Closing the door stirred up some dust and Harry fought to contain a sneeze. The general unkempt and neglected feel of the house was depressing. Stealing a sidelong glance at Snape, Harry got the distinct impression that Professor Snape was just as unhappy to be returning to his home. He was currently scowling and looking around the hall with a disdainful sneer. Harry felt that if he ever had to return to Privet Drive as an adult he would feel similarly. This thought made him wonder just what secrets the house held which could cause the normally guarded Professor Snape to show his hatred so openly.

With a wave of his wand, Snape dispelled the dust and lit the candle-filled lamp that hung in the hallway, before turning and entering the sitting room which directly opened off the hall. Harry followed closely and looked around with interest. The walls of the small sitting room were completely covered by books, many bound in leather. Snape had moved past a rickety table and an old armchair to stand in front of an empty fireplace. He turned and gestured sharply at Harry to take a seat on the threadbare sofa which sat opposite the fireplace.

'Right Potter,' Snape began, 'whilst you are here you will follow my rules, without exception. I am not the Headmaster and as such I will not tolerate your usual disregard for rules. The rules are straightforward and are not open to interpretation. Break the rules and you will suffer the consequences. Understood?'

'Yes sir,' Harry replied. He had no idea what the consequences were and had no desire to find out. Professor Snape was a teacher though, so he was relatively certain that the consequences would be no worse than the Dursleys'.

'Very well, there is a doorway concealed behind this bookcase,' Snape gestured to a section of bookcase which looked identical to its surroundings. 'You are forbidden to enter.'

He looked at Harry expectantly and Harry nodded quickly in agreement.

'This door,' here he opened another concealed doorway before gesturing for Harry to go through 'leads directly to the kitchen.'

The kitchen was small and dingy. An old refrigerator stood in one corner next to a small dirty window covered by mouldy curtains. There was a sink beneath the window and an old gas stove to the right of it. There were two doors. Snape gestured to the door on the right.

'That door leads to my private lab. You are not to enter under any circumstances. Understood?'

'Yes sir'

'This leads to the dining room,' Snape said as he opened the door on the left and walked through.

The dining room was larger than the kitchen and sparsely furnished with just a simple table and four chairs. A liquor cabinet stood in the corner. As with all the rooms Harry had seen so far the only light source was a candle-filled lamp. Harry wondered idly if Professor Snape had heard of electricity. The house had obviously been connected at some stage Harry thought but it seemed that Professor Snape had no interest in paying electricity bills to muggles.

'Breakfast will be at 7am, lunch at noon and dinner at 6pm sharp. If you are not at the table at those times you will not eat. Unlike the house elves I have no desire to waste time preparing food for ungrateful children,' Snape said sharply. 'You will eat what you are given Potter and be grateful for it. No doubt you are used to three course meals with your relatives. You will not find that here.'

'Yes sir,' Harry replied dutifully. He didn't know what misapprehension Snape was labouring under but Harry knew very well what an empty stomach felt like courtesy of the Dursleys. He was grateful that at least here he was guaranteed three square meals a day which was more than he could say for the Dursleys.

Snape led them back out into the hall and started towards a rickety staircase at the back of the house. Harry noted the cupboard under the stairs and wondered vaguely how he had survived ten years in a similar cupboard. He guessed the door opposite the cupboard was the laundry or something similar and followed Snape up the narrow staircase. At the top of the stairs there were three doors. Snape gestured to the far door on the left.

'That door leads to my room Potter; if I _ever_ find out that you have stepped foot in there you will pay dearly for your intrusion.'

'Yes sir,' Harry said immediately. He had recognised the threat for what it was and had no intention of ever setting foot in that room.

'The bathroom is through there,' Snape pointed at the middle door. 'You are to clean up after yourself. That goes for everything you do. I do not like mess Potter. I will not have some upstart teenager running amok in my house. Understood?' Harry nodded. 'Good. Your room is through that door.' He gestured at the door closest to where Harry was standing. 'You have thirty minutes to unpack your things. You are to meet me in the sitting room in half an hour. Bring your wand.' With that Snape turned on his heel and robes billowing descended the stairs leaving Harry alone.

XXXX

Harry had unpacked in two minutes and now sat quietly on his bed running through the events of the last few days. His room was smaller than Dudley's second bedroom but Harry found it cosy in a way. It was sparsely furnished with a small dresser in the corner and a dirty mirror hanging next to the door. The bed was pushed under the window. The mattress was well worn but Harry was grateful to see that it had been covered in clean sheets. He briefly wondered who had owned this room previously, but dismissed the thought as more pressing matters came to mind.

Harry was in two minds about Professor Snape. He could not deny that the Professor loathed, if not hated, Harry for some unknown reason. Harry lacked his memories but he could not believe he had intentionally done something which had caused the man to loathe him so completely. Despite his apparent hatred of Harry though, he could not deny that the man had been decent to him so far. Ignoring the snarky and sarcastic comments, which Harry suspected formed an inherent part of the man's nature and was perhaps some protective mechanism he hid behind; he had still done more than the Dursleys' ever had for him. For starters he had given Harry a decent room, and given that he only had his ten year old self's memories, it was the first time Harry could recall being able to sleep in a proper bed in an actual room. The man had also ensured that Harry would have three meals a day and would be working with him to regain his memories and re-learn what he'd been taught at Hogwarts.

Thinking of Hogwarts reminded him of his time spent in the Hospital Wing. Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey had spent a lot of time talking to him. They had talked endlessly but Harry couldn't help but feel he had learnt very little from them and had in fact only gained more questions. They had been particularly unhelpful in explaining to him his parent's deaths. Their fear of You-Know-Who was such that they had been very reluctant to tell Harry anything about Voldemort, despite the fact that he had murdered Harry's parents and for some reason had attempted to murder him as a child. It was this action which had caused Harry to become famous within the Wizarding world as the "Boy-Who-Lived". Harry had no interest in being famous. Who in their right mind would enjoy being famous at the cost of their parents, Harry thought bitterly.

He had learnt that he had since faced Voldemort three more times and that last summer Voldemort had been returned to his body. A horrific event Harry had apparently witnessed, which had resulted in the death of a fellow student. For once Harry was grateful for his temporary amnesia. Harry couldn't help but feel that the two teachers had left a lot out and that perhaps they didn't know the full story at all. They had happily obliged Harry with a few stories about his parents though. He had been told several times how he was the exact image of James Potter, except for his eyes. He had his mother's, Lily's, eyes. Harry had been grateful to hear the stories but McGonagall and Pomfrey seemed to only have stories about James. It appeared his father had been quite the prankster and was fondly remembered by the staff. Harry desperately wanted to know more about his mother but they had had little to say about her other than her talent for Charms.

Professor McGonagall had then spoken to Harry alone about the arrangements for his recovery. She had explained he would be living with Professor Snape and that he would be working with him to restore his memories. Harry got the distinct impression that she doubted Professor Snape would be able to help him. That night he had thought carefully about his placement with Snape. Without his memories, Harry had been wary of his surroundings. Keeping himself to himself and asking few questions of the teachers. He had no idea what Snape expected from him and as such had decided it would be best if he wiped the slate clean figuratively. Although he could not recall how he had acted towards Snape in the past he had vowed that from now he would be the better man and act respectfully towards Snape. He was after all living within the man's home.

Harry was however curious by nature. He was determined to ask Snape some of the questions that McGonagall and Pomfrey had been unable to answer. He knew that Snape was to the point and would not sugar coat his words. Harry would either receive an acerbic remark for being impertinent or he would receive an answer to his questions. Either way it was a risk he was willing to take. With that thought he realised he had less than a minute to get downstairs before Snape's deadline.

XXXX

Snape had spent the last half hour immersed in his thoughts. He was not happy to be back in Spinner's End. He usually managed to stay at Hogwarts excepting two or three weeks in the summer where he was forced back by Dumbledore. He knew he was going to struggle to survive the next six weeks or so. Not to mention he was sharing the house with Potter.

The place held far too many memories for him; none of which were pleasant. Everywhere he looked he was reminded of his father. Even the wretched armchair he was currently occupying reminded him of Tobias Snape. His father had spent countless evenings drinking in this chair and if Snape had been careless enough to distract his father from his drinking he'd have been lucky to walk away from the encounter. He remembered the few times he hadn't been able to walk away, which had only infuriated his father more. It had only been on those few occasions, where he had stupidly left himself vulnerable, that his mother had stepped in and dragged her son away before Tobias managed to kill him. She'd then bundle him upstairs to his room, leaving him with a few bandages and a warning not to come out until he could hold his own against his father. In the addled state he'd been left in Snape had often found it ridiculously funny that his mother didn't care that his father beat him to within an inch of his life merely that he should only show himself again when he could take another beating without needing his mother to pick him off the floor.

He knew Tobias had hit Eileen a few times; Snape had been stupid enough to get between them and had come off worse for it. It seemed though that his father was largely content to hate and abuse just his son, simply because he wasn't like Tobias and as such was a disgrace and disappointment to his father.

It had taken him until the age of five to learn to hate his father. As for his mother, he had never forgiven her for standing by and letting it happen. She'd been a witch for Merlin's sake. Deep down though Snape knew that his mother had been wretchedly depressed and essentially a muggle by the time he came of age. He sighed and pulled himself out of the dark thoughts. It would do him no good to dwell on his childhood.

His thoughts turned instead to Potter. The boy had surprised him. It seemed that losing his memories had finally instilled some respectfulness into Potter. The boy had addressed him as 'sir' or 'Professor' consistently. Snape was doubtful it would last once the brat regained his memories though. The sound of thudding on the staircase alerted him to Potter's imminent arrival. Snape glanced at his watch and groused that he couldn't yell at Potter for being late. Sighing he turned expectantly towards the door and watched as the messy-haired teen entered and seated himself on the couch.

XXXX

Harry sat patiently on the couch waiting for Snape to speak. He'd read through the first few chapters of his Charms and Transfiguration books whilst he'd been in the Hospital Wing. He hoped Snape chose to start with something he'd already read about.

'I've outlined the schedule you'll be following whilst here Potter,' Snape said as he passed a sheet of parchment across. 'You will start it tomorrow since it is almost dinner time. Be warned I will not tolerate laziness. If you have any chance of sitting and passing your OWLs this year you will have to work extremely hard. You will study Divination, History of Magic and Care of Magical Creatures by yourself, although I will set essays for History of Magic and Care of Magical Creatures. I will not mark mediocre essays, Mr Potter. They will be rewritten until I deem them worthy of submission. Is that understood?'

'Yes sir,' Harry replied. He had eagerly scanned his timetable whilst Snape was talking. He had very little free time but Harry knew he needed to devote himself completely to the task at hand, if he had any chance of relearning five years worth of material. He noted that he was expected to pre-read in the morning before lessons began at 9. He would then study a subject until noon. After lunch he would complete his homework. He had two hours of free time before dinner after which he would be working on regaining his memory. Overall Harry was fairly satisfied with the proposed timetable. If he worked hard he would be prepared. He just hoped his memory returned.

'Very well, what is the incantation to levitate objects,' Snape sneered.

Harry grinned inwardly, he had read about this charm.

'_Wingardium Leviosa_, sir' he said. He could tell Snape had been momentarily surprised that he'd obviously done some preparation. 'I was bored in the Hospital Wing and read through some texts, sir' Harry said quietly in explanation.

'Well then Potter, you should have no difficulty in performing the charm now,' Snape sneered in challenge. With a wave of his wand he produced a feather and then looked expectantly at Harry. Accepting the challenge Harry raised his wand.

'_Wingardium Leviosa_' he cried.

The feather remained resolutely on the table. Harry's shoulders sank in disappointment. He'd read about the correct wand movement but it seemed he hadn't quite got the flick right yet.

'Clearly fame isn't everything, Mister Potter,' said Snape smugly.

Harry looked at him in confusion before resolutely attempting the spell again. Three more attempts and he still hadn't mastered the spell. Sighing in frustration Harry looked up at Snape, who seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of glee from watching him fail.

'Could you please show me how it's done sir,' he asked finally.

Again Snape seemed to be momentarily surprised that Harry had actually asked him for help and that he had asked politely.

'Very well Potter, a nine year old could do better than you,' he said sardonically. Raising his wand he lazily flicked it and with a '_Wingardium Leviosa_' levitated the feather with ease.

Harry watched him carefully and saw that he needed to emphasise the flick more. With a determined look at Snape he turned to the feather.

'_Wingardium Leviosa_' he cried. This time the feather rose hesitantly before hovering steadily in front of him. With a grin Harry ended the spell and watched as the feather landed back on the table. He tried it again and this time the feather rose easily. Harry smiled openly and looked over to see Snape scowling at him.

'No need to get cocky Potter, it is after all a first year spell.'

Harry nodded. He knew Snape was right but he couldn't help but feel happy that he could still do magic. And if Harry wasn't mistaken for a second Snape had seemed genuinely impressed that Harry had mastered the spell so quickly. Well, thought Harry grinning to himself, this might just work out alright.

XXXX

**A/N:** This chapter turned out to be longer than I expected so I've split it in half. A lot of this chapter was taken up with setting the scene for the time spent at Spinner's End. That's mostly out of the way now so the story should progress a bit faster now :) Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. I hope you all continue to read and enjoy the story!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 _5th - 7th April 1996 (Easter Weekend)_

Harry sat quietly at the table watching Snape in the kitchen. They'd spent almost an hour perfecting _Wingardium Leviosa_ and a few other first year charms, including making objects tap dance. It had been exhausting but Harry felt with each spell he had gotten better and had become grimly determined to perfect the spell as quickly as possible. Even if it meant he had to ask Snape to demonstrate the spell and endure the accompanying insult.

Snape appeared with two plates of pasta. It was a fairly simple dinner but Harry was ravenous. They ate in silence, Harry finishing well before Snape. He waited patiently for Snape to finish before grabbing both their plates and taking them to the sink to wash up. This was second nature to Harry and he'd washed up both plates within minutes. If Snape was surprised he didn't show it. Instead he drew out a vial of a familiar looking potion and smirked at Harry's grimace.

'You're to take this every night after dinner,' he said smugly.

Harry reached for the vial and downed it in one before rushing to the sinking and following it with a glass of water.

'Eurgh that stuff tastes disgusting,' Harry grimaced. 'Can't you make it taste better?'

'Ignorant boy,' Harry winced at the name, which did not go unnoticed by Snape 'potions are not made for their taste. Certain ingredients are nullified by the addition of 'flavour enhancers'.'

Harry sighed; it had been worth a try. It was alright for Snape, he wasn't the one who had to drink it every night. He followed Snape into the sitting room and slumped down on the couch. Snape shot him a disapproving look but Harry was too tired to care and it was rather comfortable despite appearances. Snape took a seat in the armchair before turning to address Harry.

'Right Potter, during these sessions we will attempt to regain access to your memories. The head injury you suffered was severe enough for your mind to employ a 'safety mechanism', if you like, whereby believing certain memories to be threatened it moved them to another area of your mind. As such the memories still exist they are only hidden. Your ability to recognise _me_,' Snape said distastefully, 'stems from the fact that prior to your injury you had been failing to learn occlumency from me.'

'What's occlumency sir, and why was I learning it?' Harry interrupted eagerly, receiving a glare from Snape. Realising Snape didn't appreciate being interrupted an abashed Harry muttered a quick apology.

'Sorry sir didn't mean to interrupt.'

Snape raised an eyebrow at the spontaneous apology before answering Harry's question.

'Occlumency is the art of sealing one's mind against magical intrusion and influence. You were studying it because the Headmaster deemed it necessary,' Snape said with a grimace.

Harry nodded in understanding. In truth Professor Snape's explanation had only raised more questions but Harry knew better than to push for answers. Besides he had far more pressing questions he was hoping the Professor would answer. Harry reckoned he'd get much more out of Snape if he didn't pester the man with what he would only consider mundane and pointless questions.

Snape had paused in expectation of an onslaught of ridiculous questions, which had happened the last time he'd mentioned occlumency to Potter, but was surprised to find the boy deep in thought. It seemed Potter realised he was being watched as he suddenly turned towards Snape fixing him with an expectant gaze.

'By utilising Legilimency – the ability to extract feelings and memories from another mind, Potter,' Snape said in a bored voice, 'it is believed that I may be able to assist you in finding and regaining your memories.'

Having no wish to prolong the inevitable, Snape stood abruptly and moved to stand in front of Harry. Harry stood quickly and met Snape's gaze determinedly. Cocking an eyebrow Snape looked at him in challenge before raising his wand.

'_Legilimens_,' he whispered menacingly.

XXXX

Snape entered the boy's mind with absurd ease and was immediately confronted with memories of a young Harry Potter. Wincing in disgust Snape shifted through the memories hurriedly, resolutely ignoring them. He had no desire to watch Potter being fawned over by his relatives. It seemed that with the loss of his recent memories Potter had taken to dwelling on what he could recall. Snape had seen snatches of the boy's childhood previously; he recalled one memory where the boy had been forced up a tree by a rabid dog. He'd found that rather amusing at the time but the number of odd childhood memories popping up now was disconcerting even for Snape. If he wasn't mistaken he'd just seen the same dog actually attacking Potter, with the same fat woman looking on with glee. The bite had looked serious enough to require stitches and so Snape convinced himself that the women had been shouting in worry rather than glee. In the back of his mind though, Snape knew he hadn't been mistaken and forced himself to ignore the rest of Potter's memories.

Locating the bond he attempted to trigger the release of Potter's memories but was thrown out with force, the second he probed the connection. Not expecting Potter to be capable of defending his mind so well, Snape overbalanced and fell to the floor. It seemed he'd have to take the subtle approach to unlock Potter's mind, which meant spending more time sifting through Potter's memories he thought grimly. A hand entered his field of vision and Snape looked up in shock to see Potter offering him a hand up. Hiding his shock quickly, Snape sent Potter a menacing glare – for the boy's audacity in thinking that he'd ever need his help – and promptly got to his feet unaided. Potter sent him an impish grin, letting him know he had not been rebuffed in the slightest. Scowling in annoyance Snape took a seat and Potter followed his lead.

He had no idea what to make of this new Potter. The boy had been polite and respectful, without fail. With James Potter as his father it seemed impossible. He knew it wasn't James who the boy reminded him of though. He quickly clamped down on that thought before it could take root and instead turned to Potter.

'I think that is enough for tonight Potter,' he said wearily. He could see Potter was exhausted. He suspected subconsciously throwing him from his mind had drained Potter of his remaining energy. Besides he had no wish to delve into Potter's memories at present. He could not ignore his well honed instincts, courtesy of his spying position, which told him something was off with Potter's family. He had been able to pass off the few incidents he had seen previously as Potter's constant quest for attention but he could not ignore that Potter had been hurt in the presence of an adult who had stood by and done nothing. Not just nothing though, she'd laughed, he thought bitterly. He forced the thoughts from his mind with effort. Potter was spoilt and arrogant, like he always had been. Nothing would change that.

XXXX

Despite being exhausted Harry was determined to get some answers from Snape. The man had been sitting quietly, staring into space for the last five minutes. Harry thought he'd given him ample time to clear his thoughts and so cleared his throat. Snape looked over at him, as though surprised he was still in the room.

'What is it Potter?' he asked wearily.

'I was wondering if you could answer some questions sir?' he began hesitantly. When Snape did not object immediately he took this as an assent and hurried on.

'Do you know how I was injured, sir?'

Snape stared at him for a long minute as though deciding on what he was willing to tell Harry before replying.

'No' he said quietly. Harry studied him closely. There was an odd look in Snape's eyes but he couldn't decipher it. He wasn't completely sure about Snape yet, but he knew the man did not make decisions lightly. Knowing this Harry accepted his answer.

'My aunt never liked to talk about my parents much,' Harry said frankly. 'They don't like magic much, my aunt and uncle. I didn't realise that before, but now I know it was my accidental magic that they disliked. I think they tried to distance themselves from the Wizarding world as much as possible. It occurred to me that I might have family in the Wizarding world that they didn't know about. Do you know if there is anyone sir?'

Harry realised he sounded a bit desperate. He was fifteen for crying out loud, but if there was a possibility that he never had to see the Dursleys again he couldn't care less. Life with the Dursleys had been hell. He doubted it had gotten any better over time. In fact if they knew he was learning magic now it had undoubtedly become worse. He looked over at Snape and saw that the man was regarding him with a closed expression.

'You have no other relatives,' Snape replied carefully.

Snape knew it was a lie. It was the second lie within as many minutes. He had no intention of revealing his role in Potter's injury yet. It would definitely not be conducive to Potter regaining his memories. He was also well aware that Black would kill him if he ever learnt that he'd deliberately hidden his existence from the boy. Hell would freeze over though before he'd ever allow Sirius Black to enter his house. It was bad enough he had to have Potter here, but a Potter who was constantly whining for his godfather would be unbearable. No, Snape reasoned, much better if he doesn't realise. Snape watched Potter's face fall; the boy was ridiculously easy to read. He wore his emotions openly; no wonder he had made no progress in Occlumency. Potter's disappointment made Snape uneasy though. There was definitely something strange about Petunia and her husband he thought grimly.

Harry sighed. He had one more pressing question for tonight. Hopefully Snape would be able to give him a good explanation. He had saved this question specifically for last. Ever since he had woken up at Hogwarts and discovered that his parents had been murdered he had wanted an answer to this question.

'Sir, what made Voldemort –

'Do not use the Dark Lords name Potter!' Snape cut across him angrily. The man had winced horribly at the name and Harry noticed he had reflexively grabbed his left forearm. Ignoring Snape's outburst he continued his question.

'Sorry sir, what made You-Know-Who hunt down my family? Why did he try to murder me?'

Snape stared wordlessly at Potter for a full minute. The boy could not have chosen a worse question. It was almost as though he knew of Snape's role in his parent's death, in Lily's death. With that thought, the pain he constantly fought to keep buried rose to the surface and Snape lost it.

'GET OUT OF MY SIGHT POTTER,' he bellowed. 'YOU ARE NOT TO ASK SUCH QUESTIONS'.

Breathing heavily he watched as Potter fled before him, leaving him to his irrational anger and unbearable pain.

XXXX

Harry sighed in relief as he reached the relative safety of his room. He had no idea what had set Snape off but the man had seemed beyond rational thought. His face had been white with rage and grief. Harry wasn't sure, it had been there for only a second, but he could have sworn he'd seen Snape's eyes filled with guilt. Snape's answer had left Harry with the distinct impression that he was missing something. There had been a reason Voldemort had chosen to hunt down his parents and he now knew that Snape knew exactly what that reason was. With that thought he collapsed fully clothed on his bed and let sleep claim him.

XXXX

Harry woke refreshed and with the distinct impression that his dream involving a troll and _Wingardium Leviosa_, had actually been a memory. He couldn't recall all the details but was glad to know that his treatment seemed to be working. It was quarter to six so Harry made his way downstairs for breakfast. He had decided before falling asleep to let Snape cool down a bit before he asked any more questions. He just hoped the Professor wasn't going to be in a foul mood for the rest of the day. His rage last night had reminded Harry vividly of Uncle Vernon. He entered the kitchen to find it deserted. Snape didn't strike Harry as the sort of man who would renegade on his own rules. Puzzled Harry entered the sitting room.

Snape was slumped in the armchair unconscious. Harry could smell the alcohol from the doorway. An almost empty bottle sat on the rickety table next to Snape whilst glass shards littered the floor where Snape had obviously smashed an empty bottle in rage. It looked like Snape had been too far gone to notice that he'd managed to get a good deal of the glass into his hand. Harry quietly picked up the bottle, taking it into the kitchen and pouring the remaining liquid down the sink. He searched through the cupboards in the kitchen for a dust pan or broom. Finding nothing he checked the cupboard under the stairs. Grabbing the dust pan and brush stored in the cupboard he entered the sitting room silently and quickly cleaned up the glass surrounding Snape. Satisfied that Snape was in no danger at present Harry returned to the kitchen and quickly made himself an omelette for breakfast. Knowing Snape would be unable to stomach food for a while Harry didn't bother to save him any. He cleaned up before heading upstairs to shower and begin his work.

Harry spent the morning in his room, studying transfiguration. He hadn't heard Snape stir yet, so had struggled through the practical work alone. He was quite pleased that he'd managed to transfigure several buttons into an assortment of items by himself. It wasn't until after Harry had finished lunch and was on his way back upstairs that Snape finally woke. He heard the man groan as he got up; Harry didn't blame him, it'd have to be a killer of a hangover. Deciding it was best to leave the man in peace he shut himself in his room and continued his studies. He heard Snape come up and use the shower but the Professor did not seek him out. Grateful for the peace Harry worked solidly until dinner.

Snape it seemed had decided to ignore Harry. Harry was surprised to see he'd switched his robes for a dark button down and slacks. His gaze lingered on Snape's hand, which he noted had been healed. The meal was uncomfortably silent and Harry ate quickly. The only acknowledgment Harry received was a potion vial pushed roughly in front of him. Accepting it Harry downed it and excused himself, leaving Snape alone at the table.

XXXX

Snape let his head fall into his hands. He had no idea why he'd done it. It was inexcusable; and to have done it here, in this house. What in Merlin's name had he been thinking? He must have looked the carbon copy of Tobias, slumped in his chair surrounded by and stinking of booze. Potter had managed to undo all his self control, baring his grief and self loathing with a single question. W_hat made You-Know-Who hunt down my family? _He had no memory of how much he had consumed. He'd woken around lunchtime to a throbbing head to find himself slumped in the armchair with glass in his hand. He had no idea how he'd gotten the glass in his hand but had been mortified when he realised Potter must have seen him. Someone had cleaned up the glass and emptied his Firewhiskey bottle. He'd noticed Potter eyeing his previously injured hand critically at dinner, confirming that the boy had definitely seen him. At that point he was glad he had decided to ignore Potter for the remainder of the day. The boy only brought out the worst in him he thought bitterly. He groaned and left the table for his room. Tomorrow would be a new day.

XXXX

'Morning sir,' Harry said cheerfully as he arrived at the breakfast table. Snape only sent him a dark look in response but Harry figured he was in a better state then he had been yesterday. Harry had just sat down when something tapped on one of the windows. Snape got up and opened the window, stepping back slightly to allow a white blur to pass. Harry's mouth dropped when he recognised the snowy white owl which had landed on the table.

'Hedwig,' he cried in welcome.

Professor McGonagall had told him that Hedwig had been out hunting when she'd fetched Harry's things. She'd given Harry the impression that it was unlikely Hedwig would be able to locate him.

'How did you find us girl,' he whispered to her whilst running his fingers along her neck.

She nipped him affectionately on his ear before holding out her leg, allowing him to untie a package. Snape meanwhile had re-seated himself, content to glare at the offending bird over his newspaper. Harry managed to remove his package and now noticed a small letter had been secured underneath. He made to take the letter but Hedwig launched herself away to settle on the back of Snape's chair. Snape dropped his paper down and glared furiously across at Harry.

'Get your blasted bird away from me Potter', he snarled.

'Don't insult her!' Harry replied angrily. 'The letter's obviously for you. She wouldn't let me take it off.'

Harry had been prepared to continue defending Hedwig but he realised she had it well in hand. Once he'd realised the letter was for him, Snape had attempted to remove it from Hedwig. At first it appeared she was content to allow him to remove the letter but Harry wasn't fooled. Offering no warning Harry watched smugly as Hedwig viciously nipped Snape's finger when it came into range. She'd bitten him deep enough to draw blood, Harry noted satisfactorily.

'Damn it Potter, your bird is out of control,' Snape hissed in pain. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wrapped it around his finger, applying pressure to stop the bleeding.

'Her name's Hedwig,' Harry said determinedly, 'and I told you not to insult her.'

Snape was infuriated to see that Potter was sitting there grinning like an idiot at his discomfit. He had been about to demand Potter remove the blasted letter himself when the boy wonder spoke up.

'She won't let me take it for you,' Harry said apologetically. He realised Hedwig had had her revenge now and he knew the cut had been deep enough to be quite painful. 'She'll let you take it when she knows you respect her.'

With that Harry turned to his own package, ignoring Snape's grumblings. The package was addressed in an untidy scrawl that did not seem familiar. Opening the package he was astounded to find an Easter egg. As far as he could recall he had never received a gift in his life. A broad grin spread over his face as he took the egg out and placed it reverently on the table before turning to the attached letter.

_Dear Harry_,

_Happy Easter mate! Hermione's charmed the paper so that it should show nonsense if any of Umbridge's lot read it, so you should get this! Mum sent the eggs through a couple of days ago and yours was included. I was going to give it to you today but you've gone home Professor McGonagall told us. We're sure there's more to the story than that but we guess you won't be able to tell us until you get back. Anyway, I was just wondering what to do with your egg when Hedwig turned up out of the blue. I guess she wanted to make sure you got something. We can't wait until you get back! Ginny says hello and Hermione sends her love._

_See you round mate,_

_Ron _

Harry smiled happily; although he couldn't remember them he knew Ron and Hermione were his best friends. Looking up he suppressed a smirk. It seemed Snape had grudgingly earned Hedwig's respect somehow and was now perusing his own short letter.

XXXX

Snape finished the short letter. It had been from Dumbledore, informing him that he would call by the end of the week. It had taken him several minutes to convince Potter's thrice blasted bird to relinquish the letter. During that time it hadn't escaped his notice that Potter had looked surprised and ridiculously joyful to receive a rather modest Easter egg, undoubtedly from the Weasley matriarch. The boy's surprise at having received a gift unsettled Snape further. There was definitely something going on with Potter, now he just had to decide whether it was worth his time finding out.

XXXX

**A/N**: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. It's great to read that people are enjoying the story! Coming up: will Snape discover just exactly what Harry's childhood was like?


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 _8th April - 14th April (First week of the Easter Holidays)_

The rest of the week progressed mostly without incident. Snape – against his better judgement – was grudgingly impressed by Potter's ability to remaster the spells he'd forgotten. It seemed the boy needed nothing more than a demonstration or two and he'd manage to get it right himself. He'd discovered that Potter was far more observant then he had ever given him credit for. He was confident though that once they moved to Potions, Potter's usual incompetence would surface and Snape would be able to resume hating Potter with ease. He found it was much harder to hate someone who did not resent you mutually. In fact Snape had caught himself smirking at several of the boy's more cheeky endeavours; much to his own displeasure.

It seemed that Potter's memory was also returning, albeit at a much slower pace than Snape had anticipated. Snape used the nightly sessions to forage through Potter's memories without his knowledge. He knew he would have to confront Potter at some point: he was particularly curious as to why so many of Potter's memories featured the cupboard under the stairs. It seemed though that Potter had some unconscious desire to keep Snape out of those memories as he was often blocked from seeing the entirety of the memory. This only aroused Snape's suspicions further and he was determined to question the boy at length. However, meals still remained a relatively silent affair. Snape got the impression that Potter had been put off by his alcoholic binge. Besides he'd need to gain Potter's trust if he ever hoped to broach the subject – which was as likely as him being appointed Minister for Magic he thought sardonically.

No, he would simply report his findings to Dumbledore who in turn could let Black deal with it. What did he care for James Potter's son? That wasn't the real question though. No, his conscious demanded an answer to a much more problematic question. Did he care for Lily Evan's son?

XXXX

Harry stared morosely at his stew. He'd been here for a week now and he felt more confused than he ever had in his life. He'd been dumped here by a Headmaster he could not recall and had been told next to nothing about his own life. Admittedly Professor Snape was helping him to regain his memories but the one time Harry had tried to get some answers from the man, he'd lost it and drunk himself stupid. Snape's enigmatic behaviour served only to frustrate Harry further. Not to mention he was fast becoming exhausted. He was getting maybe two or three hours of sleep a night. If he wasn't recalling memories, he was being haunted by bizarre dreams of long corridors ending in locked doors. He felt a strange obsession over the corridor and had taken to burying the dream deep within childhood memories; for some reason he couldn't explain he didn't want Snape to find it. Luckily Snape seemed to be more than content to browse Harry's childhood memories and had yet to realise the subterfuge. That was another thing that ground on Harry's nerves and feeling particularly reckless Harry took the plunge.

'Is there a particular reason you've been spending so much time in my memories, _sir_?' Harry asked tersely, dropping his fork loudly against the edge of his bowl.

If Snape was surprised at Harry's outburst he did not show it.

'To what could you possibly be referring _Mister_ Potter?' Snape replied silkily, with the slightest emphasis on the Mister. 'I was under the distinct impression that you were here precisely so that I could 'spend my time in your memories' as you so eloquently put it. Or have you forgotten that we are here to help you regain your memories and to do that I unfortunately have to immerse myself in the inane trivialities that make up your mind.'

Harry wasn't swayed though. He knew Snape knew exactly what he was talking about.

'Don't patronise me sir,' Harry began hotly. 'You know what I'm talking about. I don't know what it is exactly that you're looking for but you've searched out the same memories every night.'

'Really Potter, and why would I do that?'

There was an edge to Snape's tone now but Harry could tell he'd been right. Snape was looking for something. Well if Snape wanted to talk childhoods, Harry could do that.

'Tell me sir,' Harry began recklessly, 'did you grow up here? Cause I would have picked you for a Pureblood sir. Was it your mother or your father who was the muggle? I'd guess father, given the –

'ENOUGH POTTER,' Snape roared angrily.

He was breathing heavily and staring at Harry with a look of absolute loathing. Harry's sudden questioning had caught Snape by surprise, rendering him temporarily speechless. The man's face was flushed an ugly red in anger and possibly embarrassment Harry noted with surprise. Harry stood suddenly, best to beat a hasty retreat he thought. He looked at the seething man for a moment.

'I apologise for the way I asked that, but not for asking. You've seen more of my childhood than I'd care for you to have seen. I have no wish to dwell on those memories for longer than is necessary. You should have the decency to ask for whatever it is you have been looking for. That is all I ask,' Harry finished quietly.

Snape had not interrupted him. Harry suspected he'd been thrown by the apology.

'Goodnight sir'

With that he turned and left the room.

XXXX

Snape remained seated at the table, trying to calm his breathing. It was taking every ounce of his self control to ignore the liquor cabinet. He had no desire to take up drinking – he knew very well what the consequences to that were; but Potter had pushed all his buttons tonight. He wanted nothing more than to forget and so against his better judgement he stood suddenly and approached the cabinet. It was only once he opened the cabinet that he realised the little brat had emptied his remaining Firewhiskey earlier in the week. Swearing viciously he resumed his seat at the dining table, making a mental note to restock his cabinet. He'd only ever kept two or so bottles at Spinner's End but if this week was anything to go by he'd need at least a dozen more. Besides he was expecting Dumbledore later tonight, he could hardly entertain the man drunk.

Resigned to remaining sober he collected Potter's latest essays, determined to relieve some of his anger. As he ripped into the essay he contemplated Potter's outburst. The boy was just too damn perceptive for his own good. How the hell had he realised Snape had been searching his memories specifically. Well the boy had made his point; in future Snape would just demand an answer. It was the spontaneous apology though that had really thrown Snape. What exactly had Potter meant by apologising for the way he asked but '_not for asking'_? If the boy thought he was going to sit down and have a heart to heart with him about his own childhood he was deluded.

He'd spent nearly an hour marking Potter's essays but it had only served to frustrate him further. It seemed if the boy applied himself he was more than capable of producing an acceptable standard of work. Needing to calm down before Dumbledore arrived he moved to the sitting room and engrossed himself in one of his many books.

XXXX

It wasn't until after midnight that Snape's fire flared to life and the tall form of Dumbledore emerged. He looked weary and was wearing a heavy travelling coat but his eyes still twinkled as he met Severus' gaze.

'Good morning Severus,'

'Albus,' Snape nodded, putting his book away in its respective place. 'Tea?' he scowled, offering the obligatory refreshments.

'If you wouldn't mind Severus,' Albus replied genially, watching with an amused expression as his Potion's Master turned on his heel and stalked into the kitchen. As Snape moved around the kitchen, making a lot more noise than Albus thought was strictly necessary, he took a seat on the sofa. Snape emerged from the kitchen with a sour expression, forcing a cup into Albus' hands before sitting himself in the armchair and looking expectantly at Dumbledore. Albus suppressed a chuckle as he sipped his drink, Harry must have done something quite extraordinary to have put Severus in such a state.

'How is young Harry, Severus?' he began.

'As irritating and arrogant as he always is Albus,' Snape replied sourly.

'Is that so' Dumbledore replied quietly, surveying Severus carefully over his half moon glasses. Snape shifted under the gaze and studiously ignored him.

'What of his spell work? Is it likely he will be able to sit his OWLs?' Dumbledore questioned.

'He has made adequate progression. He is on track to sit his OWLs,' Snape replied tightly.

Dumbledore smiled to himself. It sounded as though Harry was doing very well.

'And his memory?'

'Potter has regained less than I thought he would have by now. I've increased the dosage of the restorative potion,' Snape said seriously.

Albus nodded, he hadn't expected Harry to have remembered much yet but it was troubling that Severus had felt the need to increase the dose.

'Yes, well I'll leave those decisions up to you Severus.' He paused to sip his tea and noted that Severus was fiddling with a loose thread in his armchair, unable to keep his fingers still. Severus was rarely restless. The only instances Dumbledore could recall were when he had been particularly nervous about something. Curious, Albus decided to question him more closely.

'I imagine Harry has had a few questions for you Severus?'

Severus looked up at him, startled before he scowled and looked away.

'You could say that,' Snape muttered in reply.

'Now, now Severus,' he chastised Snape, 'you can't blame the lad. He only has his childhood memories after all.'

'And what exactly do you mean by that Albus?' Snape asked viciously. He'd turned to face Albus completely and was studying him with a closed but angry expression. Dumbledore looked at him in surprise. He had no idea what Severus had taken out of that question.

'My dear boy, I meant only that, as the curious lad Harry is, I'm sure he's been bombarding you with numerous questions about our world.' He paused; Severus had relaxed marginally at that explanation but Albus was sure that he had reacted for another reason. He fixed Severus with a piercing gaze.

'Is there something you wish to tell me, Severus,' he asked seriously.

Snape considered him carefully. He could of course reveal his suspicions to Albus that he was beginning to think that Potter's childhood had been anything but normal but he stopped himself. They were after all only suspicions, he had yet to confront Potter. That wasn't the only reason though; he had the inexplicable feeling that he would somehow be betraying Potter's trust if he spoke to Dumbledore now. It was a ludicrous notion but he couldn't shake it.

'No,' he began carefully 'as you said, the brat is far too curious for his own good.'

Dumbledore studied him for a long moment but then nodded satisfied. Severus could keep his secrets. Besides he was pressed for time and he still needed to discuss some of the more urgent Order business with Severus.

XXXX

Harry sat quietly on his bed staring at the ceiling. Arguing with Snape so early in the evening had been stupid. He'd ended up sending himself to bed at 7pm. He'd spent the last four hours reading through his Potions textbooks in preparation for tomorrow. He'd then lain on his bed for at least two hours trying to fall asleep. He'd been on the verge of sleep when he'd heard someone in the kitchen. Curious he'd sat up and listened carefully. He could hear voices coming from the sitting room. Snape obviously thought he was well and truly asleep as neither of the men had put up a silencing charm. They must have left the door to the sitting room open he thought, as he heard someone say his name. Having no desire to sleep now Harry eavesdropped unashamedly. They were talking about him after all.

He heard Snape deflect the question about him asking questions and smirked quietly to himself – that was an understatement if ever he'd heard one. The next question made him frown. He wasn't entirely sure who this person was; he suspected it was Albus Dumbledore, but as far as he was concerned the man had no right to talk about his childhood in such a light manner. He heard Snape's sharp reply and felt a surge of comfort that Snape at least seemed to understand him. He almost made to go downstairs when he heard the man question Snape more closely. Snape had seen far too much and Harry knew that he suspected there was a lot more he wasn't seeing. He had no desire at all for Snape to start spilling all his secrets but he was stopped in his tracks by Snape's calm reply.

Snape had lied to his boss – for him, Harry. No one had ever done that before. Harry felt a newfound respect for Snape. There was a lull in the conversation before Harry heard Snape ask:

'Is there anything else, Headmaster?'

So it was the Headmaster, Harry thought to himself, putting a name to the unfamiliar voice.

'Yes, there is some rather urgent Order business to attend to. Have you been summoned recently?' Dumbledore asked.

'No, the Dark Lord has been unusually quiet. I suspect if I'm not summoned beforehand I will be when school resumes. Once word reaches him that I have not returned for the start of the term he will demand an explanation,' Snape explained.

'Yes, yes that is to be expected. You are to inform him that I have ordered you to take leave for Order business' Dumbledore replied certainly, giving Harry the impression that this was a regular discussion point between the two men.

'And what Order business is it that I have been attending to?' There was a weary edge to Snape's voice and Harry got the impression he did not enjoy the job he had been given by Dumbledore. Dumbledore either did not notice or was unperturbed as he replied calmly.

'Voldemort has been making moves to infiltrate the Ministry more thoroughly, in preparation for a complete take over I believe. It is only a sideline project, run by some of his deputies we believe but it is still a credible threat. I have deployed you to monitor some of the more corrupt Ministry workers. I will consolidate a memory with you at another time though Severus, there is much that still needs to be done tonight.'

There was a pause in the conversation before Dumbledore continued.

'We believe Voldemort himself is still completely focused on hearing the entirety of the prophecy. There has been little activity at the Department of Mysteries but we cannot assume that he will let this go. It is worrying that he has ignored you so completely Severus, we must know what he plans to do to gain the prophecy. I cannot help but think that Voldemort will attempt to use Harry before the year is out. He is in more danger than he has been all year, particularly with his reduced magic. He has no idea that he was learning to protect his mind against Voldemort I presume? Good it would be best to keep it that way. The less he focuses on Voldemort the better. Do you know if he still dreams of the corridor?'

'I have not seen it in his memories if that is what you mean,' Snape replied.

'Very well, Severus I must take my leave. I will be in contact. If you are called before I next see you I trust you will be able to create the necessary memory alone?'

'I will do what I must.'

The men exchanged farewells and silence fell on the house. Harry was not entirely sure what it was that he had just overheard. He suspected if he had his memories the conversation would have made a lot more sense. From what he understood it seemed Voldemort was interested in a prophecy which somehow involved him. He heard Snape come up and enter his room sometime later but it was a long time before Harry's thoughts were calm enough for him to fall asleep.

XXXX

Harry woke tired and disgruntled. He'd let his thoughts keep him awake until the early hours of the morning and he was paying for it now. He groaned when he noticed the time. It was almost nine. He'd overslept and was going to be late if he didn't hurry. His stomach growled loudly but he remembered Snape's rule and knew he wouldn't be eating until lunch. It was going to be a long morning but he was determined to do well in Potions. Apart from Defence Against the Dark Arts he reckoned Potions might be one of his favourite subjects, it was definitely the most intriguing. He pulled on his shirt as he rushed out his door and taking the steps two at a time entered the sitting room just as the mantelpiece clock hit nine.

Snape was sitting in his armchair. He ignored Harry for several minutes before carefully closing his book and placing it on the table.

'Potter, so nice of you to grace me with your esteemed presence this morning,' he sneered at Harry. 'Of course it would be too much for the Boy-Who-Lived to show common courtesy.' He paused 'If someone goes to the trouble of preparing a meal for you Potter, the considerate thing to do is to attend and eat that meal. You were made aware of the rules were you not Potter?

'Yes sir' Harry replied dutifully.

'Well you'll be able to reflect on your tardiness with an empty stomach until lunchtime won't you,' he smiled nastily at Harry.

Harry, who had gone for far longer without food, was not particularly worried.

'Yes sir. Are we starting on Potions today?'

'Yes,' Snape snapped irritably. 'Go and get your cauldron and meet me back in the kitchen.'

Harry nodded and rushed back upstairs to fetch his things.

XXXX

Snape stormed back into the kitchen. The boy had not only failed to appear for breakfast – Snape suspected he'd been sulking – but he had had the audacity to look unconcerned by the prospect of having to wait for lunch before he could eat. In fact the boy had not even complained that he'd missed breakfast. Snape had expected to be faced with a whining Potter for the majority of the morning. He had actually been looking forward to siphoning off some of his frustrations by putting Potter in his place. The fact that Potter hadn't even batted an eyelid at the missed meal though was disconcerting. Snape knew very well that fifteen year old boys did not have small appetites – you only had to look at the Weasley boys at breakfast. Well, he was determined to get some answers out of Potter today. That is if the boy doesn't blow a cauldron up in my face, he thought grimly. He'd been unable to put Potions off any longer, despite Potter's apparent enthusiasm for it.

Potter appeared in the doorway, cauldron in hand and Snape led the way over to his lab.

'As I warned you the first day Potter, you are not to enter this Lab unless I am with you. Understood?' He fixed the boy with a glare. Potter nodded and he stood back to let Potter enter first.

Snape watched Potter looked around with interest. The lab was set out much like at Hogwarts, but on a much smaller scale. There was a single long bench in the centre of the room and a sink in the far corner. He motioned for Potter to set up on the bench.

'Right Potter, we'll start with something easy shall we? Cure for Boils, if you please. Perhaps after this you'll remember that you're terrible at Potions,' he finished smugly.

But Potter didn't answer, he'd already set to work on the potion. Amused Snape moved to the other end of the bench and set to work on his own potion. He'd decided to let Potter work alone for this first potion. He was of course prepared to stop an explosion but he wanted the boy to realise just how terrible he was at Potions. It would be much more satisfying this way he thought, even if it meant foregoing insulting Potter. He was fairly sure that Potter would not have done any pre-reading this morning and so was looking forward to watching him fail spectacularly.

To his absolute horror, Potter produced a perfectly useable Cure for Boils. What was worse was the boy had looked rather smug when he'd presented the potion to Snape.

'When did you do the pre-reading for Potions?' he asked angrily.

'Last night, sir,' Potter replied cheerfully. 'It was early when I went up so I read through my first year Potions text.'

Snape stared at him in surprise.

'Very well, you can brew a Forgetfulness Potion now. Rather appropriate don't you think?' he added maliciously.

The potion was taught at the end of first year. He'd see just how much Potter had read now. He had never imagined that Potter would ever read a Potions book voluntarily. He was annoyed that Potter had surprised him again. Snape decided it was time to turn the tables on Potter.

'What is your fascination with the cupboard under the stairs?' he asked suddenly.

Potter looked up at him in surprise, much to Snape's satisfaction. A grin spread over Potter's face before he replied.

'That's what you've been looking for?' he asked incredulously.

Snape nodded in response. Harry returned his attention to his potion and Snape watched as he added some mistletoe berries to his mortar. He continued to focus on his potion and Snape grew impatient.

'Well?' he demanded.

Harry carefully crushed the contents of his mortar, remaining silent.

'Answer me Potter!'

'Oh, I just wanted to know what you were looking for sir. I had no intention of having a discussion about it,' the boy replied cheekily.

Snape stared at him.

'What!' he spluttered. 'You said –

'Nothing about discussions sir,' Harry interrupted him.

The boy shot him a cheeky grin only causing his anger to escalate. The boy was continually defiant.

'This is not up for negotiation Potter; you will explain it to me now,' he demanded.

'Sorry sir. Everyone has secrets.'

With that Potter turned back to his mortar and pestle. Snape stared at him, at a loss for words. The boy was slyer and much cheekier than Snape had ever considered. For a second Snape was reminded of Lily. He couldn't deny that during this week he'd spent in Potter's constant company he had been reminded more forcefully of Lily than he had at any other point in the last fifteen years. A thought he found both terrifying and, to his absolute alarm, comforting. Before he could reign in his thoughts Potter interrupted his musings with a question of his own.

'Why do you call him the Dark Lord?'

Snape stared at him for a full minute; his expression guarded.

'What does that have to do with anything Potter?' he replied carefully.

'I remembered something last night, from last year I think. A man named Karkaroff. He spent the year following you around sir,' Potter rambled. 'Anyway, he had a mark on his left forearm.' Snape stiffened at that 'I don't think you even realised you'd done it sir, but when I said his name the other night you grabbed your arm.'

Potter's tone was not accusatory but Snape felt he was trying to prove something to him. Unsure of what Potter was looking for, Snape fell back on his safeguard of sarcasm.

'And the point of that little tale Potter?'

'We all have secrets sir,' he replied quietly.

Harry turned back to his potion. He wanted Snape to realise that Harry understood Snape had his own secrets as well. And he wanted him to understand that Harry knew some of those secrets. He knew Snape was a Death Eater now. He hadn't said it, but he knew Snape understood that he knew exactly what that mark meant. And although Snape didn't realise it Harry was prepared to trust the man because the man had not betrayed him to Dumbledore. He finished his potion and turned to the pensive Snape. He sighed to himself; he was taking a big leap into the unknown. Bracing himself against the bench he looked up at Snape.

'You wanted to know why I've got so many memories of that cupboard sir.' He paused and noted calmly that he had Snape's full attention. 'Because that's where I slept for ten years.'

XXXX

**A/N**: So this chapter took me a little longer than I expected. It was a hard chapter to write because I didn't want to rush into Harry trusting Snape too quickly or Snape being prepared to deal with Harry on his own. I think what I've manged to get is something where Harry is prepared to trust Snape because he is of course a far better adult than the Dursleys. I've also tried to indicate that Harry suspects not all is right with Snape's own childhood - which I think would lead to Harry trusting Snape more. Harry is incredibly observant within the books so I'm fairly sure it's well within his character to pick up on something like that, particularly in Snape's own home. I also think that a week in Harry's constant company would legitimately cause Snape to be reminded of Lily. Which is why Snape is prepared to tolerate Harry - but don't expect him to accept this easily. Acceptance will be a long time coming. I'm interested to see what you all think of this and I hope I've done the story justice. Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed so far. It's been very encouraging. Coming up: The fallout to Harry's declaration


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 - _14th - 20th April 1996 (Second week of the Easter Holidays)_

Snape stood frozen, his gaze fixed on the boy before him. Potter's words playing over and over in his mind: '_because that's where I slept for ten years'_. At worst he'd thought that Potter had been shut in the cupboard as punishment. He had been concerned because he'd seen memories of a two year old Potter being shoved roughly into the cupboard. He'd thought it had been for a day at most – which was bad enough in itself, he thought grimly – but Potter had always blocked him before he could realise how long it had been. Had Petunia really become so vindictive that she had been capable of locking up her two year old nephew? Even he had had his own room as a child, Snape thought to himself.

Potter was looking at him apprehensively now and Snape realised he'd been silent for over ten minutes. He noted with concern that the cauldron he'd been working on before was now overflowing – he cursed silently to himself, he hadn't let that happen in years. He realised he needed to say something to Potter, but his mind was blank. He was not the type to discuss feelings and the last person he wanted to be discussing feelings with was Potter. Looking at the defiant way the boy was standing, Snape realised Potter wasn't after false reassurances from him. Potter had told him because he had taken the time to ask – which Snape suspected no one else had done before. Snape cleared his throat before addressing the boy.

'Right Potter, clean up your bench. Then you can have lunch' he said calmly.

Potter flashed him a relieved grin, before moving to carry out his instructions.

Snape turned hastily to his cauldron and banished the contents. It seemed he had understood Potter correctly, thankfully. Snape had more than his own share of demons to contend with. He was not the person to be offering comfort to Potter. He heard Potter leave the lab and allowed himself to lean back against the bench, resting his head in his hands. He knew that although Potter seemed content not to discuss his _relatives_, Snape thought sourly, that it was his duty as a teacher to discover any other abuse and to discuss it with Potter. He cursed his luck that Potter had chosen to reveal this little gem to him. Sighing in frustration, Snape made his way upstairs to confront Potter.

XXXX

Harry bit into his sandwich with vigour. Missing breakfast had made him ravenous. He watched Snape who was seated opposite him. The man had barely touched his own food; instead he seemed to be having some kind of internal debate. Harry suspected he was debating whether or not to discuss the cupboard with him. Harry had been relieved when Snape had simply accepted his answer and continued on as though nothing had changed. He had told Snape because he trusted the man and because he suspected the own man's childhood had been unhappy as well. Harry had no desire to be pitied and so he cut to the chase.

'You don't need to discuss anything with me you know,' he said hastily. 'Look the Dursleys have hated me for as long as I can remember. Nothing's going to change that. Besides I have a room now, so it doesn't really matter anymore,' he finished lamely.

Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry.

'_Doesn't really matter anymore_,' he repeated silkily. 'Tell me Potter, what exactly do you think is the role of a guardian?'

Harry knew the Dursleys were rubbish guardians but he knew they had their reasons.

'Look sir,' Harry began, 'you don't understand. They didn't have any choice in the matter. I was just dumped on their doorstep... and well... I'm not normal,' he trailed off.

Snape didn't seem to like his explanation. His face had flushed and Harry could tell he was furious.

'Do NOT try to justify this Potter,' the man hissed in anger. 'Abuse is inexcusable.'

'What do you mean abuse!' Harry fired back angrily. 'This isn't abuse!'

Snape stared at him for a full minute. His breathing had calmed and he was looking at Harry with an odd expression which Harry couldn't decipher. He wasn't sure but he thought it was possibly one of understanding?

'What would you call it then Potter?' Snape finally asked.

Harry chose to ignore the question, instead focusing on his sandwich. He knew how it was with the Dursleys. They hated him for what he was, which was why they acted the way they did. Snape just didn't understand that.

'Please sir, just drop it.' Harry said wearily.

'As much as I would like to do just that Potter,' Snape sneered, 'I am in fact obliged, as your teacher, to discuss this with you now that I have become aware of it.'

Harry stared at Snape in alarm. What exactly had possessed him to tell the man anything?

'Wait, you're not my teacher at the moment sir,' Harry realised triumphantly, 'you've taken leave. You're not obliged to do anything.'

Harry smiled smugly at that and returned to his sandwich. Snape didn't seem perturbed by his logic though.

'What did you mean by saying you were not normal Potter?' Snape asked carefully.

Harry was caught off guard by the question. He'd expected more questioning over abuse and guardians. Snape was looking at him with a quizzical expression. Harry couldn't see what he'd found so bizarre about the statement, the reason was fairly obvious and so he answered Snape.

'I'm a wizard,' he said matter-of-factly.

'So that makes you abnormal in the eyes of your _guardians_?' his face twisted into a grimace at the word guardians.

'Err,' Harry said, realising he'd said too much.

Snape just raised his eyebrow at Harry, as though he'd proved his point. Which he has, Harry thought in defeat.

'It's obvious that you are not prepared to discuss this at the present time Potter,' Snape cut into his thoughts, 'but we will discuss this. It is non-negotiable.'

Snape stood to leave the table and Harry recognised defeat. He could think of worse people to know his secrets. Before Snape could leave Harry stopped him.

'You won't tell anyone else will you?' he asked quietly. He looked at Snape directly. Something flickered in the man's gaze before he replied just as quietly.

'No Potter; you have my word.'

With that he swept from the room leaving Harry to his thoughts.

XXXX

It had been the boy's blasted green eyes – Lily's eyes – looking up at him beseechingly he thought bitterly. He had been on the verge of denying Potter's request vehemently when the boy had looked him straight in the eye. Now he'd just gone and made himself Potter's only confidant. He curled his fingers into tight fists, resisting the urge to lash out at the wall as he made his way into the sitting room. So much for telling Dumbledore and letting Black deal with it, he thought sarcastically. It hadn't been only Lily's eyes though. He'd felt as though he'd be betraying the boy's trust if he hadn't agreed. Deciding it was best to forget about it for now he reached for one of Potter's essays and lost himself in marking.

XXXX

As the week progressed and they moved onto more advanced magic, Potter began to struggle. Where he had taken two or three attempts to remaster a spell he was now taking six or more. Snape noted it was only in transfiguration or with some charms that he had trouble. He was still remastering Defence Against the Dark Arts at a much faster rate than Snape had anticipated. He had only had to mention the Patronus charm, when Potter had produced his corporeal stag straight off. By the end of the week tempers were flaring at the slightest provocation.

'Merlin help me Potter, it's done like this,' Snape said in frustration. With obvious ease he transfigured the frog into a goblet for the fifth time that morning.

'I know!' the frustrated teenager yelled back.

'Don't take that tone with me boy,' Snape snapped, losing his calm. Potter flinched but Snape was too annoyed to care.

'Well if you can't do that Potter, let's see if you've mastered _Accio_ yet,' he sneered. 'We only spent an hour on it yesterday after all.'

Potter sent him a glare, to which he just smirked, before turning and pointing his wand at the couch cushion.

'_Accio_!' he cried.

'Oh well done Potter,' Snape laughed sarcastically. 'It seems you've managed to get worse over night.'

There was nothing funny about the situation though Snape reflected. If the boy failed to master simple charms like _Accio_ they'd never manage to cover all the coursework. The frustrating thing was that Snape knew the boy had mastered it ahead of his classmates and had employed a near perfect charm in the First Task of the wretched Triwizard Tournament. Resigning himself to the realisation that there was no rhyme or reason to how quickly Potter was able to master spells he looked over at the disgruntled teen. The boy was too angry – he wouldn't be able to learn anything more today.

'Go and read up on the theory Potter, we'll work on this more tomorrow,' he said wearily in dismissal.

XXXX

Harry felt trapped. He'd spent almost all of the last five hours in his room studying. He needed an escape. He looked at the time – two hours until dinner. Snape would be down in his lab, he'd have plenty of time. With that thought he grabbed one of Dudley's old pullovers and descended the stairs. Keeping an eye out for Snape he made his way to the front door and within minutes he was outside. It was raining but Harry had been cooped up inside since he'd first arrived. He needed to get out, to get some space away from Snape and that house. Besides he thought, Snape hadn't mentioned anything about not going outside in the rules. Probably because he didn't think of it a voice in the back of his mind admonished him. He ignored it and stepped out into the rain. He pulled his hood up and left the yard jogging in the direction they'd arrived from.

The chill of the rain was exhilarating and Harry felt happier than he had in a long time. He jogged in the rain not caring which way he went, just wanting to get as far away as he could. He ran along the edge of a dirty creek, revelling in the feeling of stretching his limbs to their limits. He took long deep breaths, allowing himself to keep a steady pace as he ran. The rain was getting heavier, and the streets were darkening quickly but Harry no longer cared. He couldn't have been gone for more than an hour; he still had plenty of time before dinner. The path he was following diverted away from the river and up into a small thicket of trees that ran along the edge of the river. The grove was small and Harry soon found himself in a deserted, disused playground. He stopped, breathing heavily at the edge of the playground. He bent over to catch his breath before approaching one of the swings and collapsing into it.

The chimney of the mill was a distant landmark on the skyline. He only now realised he'd come much farther than he'd intended and he wasn't entirely sure of the way back. The rain was now pouring down, but Harry didn't have the energy to get up and move. Besides it was comforting to just be able to swing. On reflection, it had been a mistake to push himself so hard. The last few nights he'd been plagued by particularly bad nightmares. He'd had nightmares fairly regularly since arriving at Spinner's End and had taken to placing a silencing charm around his bed before sleeping. Vernon had ensured that Harry understood from a young age that adults did not like to be disturbed by nightmares.

For the last few nights though he'd woken yelling after visiting the graveyard in his dreams. He'd been unable to return to sleep afterwards and had instead taken to sitting beneath the window in his room, his thoughts focused on his role in the murder of Cedric Diggory. As such he was now beyond exhausted and did not even contemplate attempting to return to Spinner's End. Instead he let his head rest against the cool metal of the swing and allowed his eyes to drift shut.

XXXX

Snape ate his meal quickly, eyeing distastefully the empty spot across from him. Potter was fast making it a habit to skip meals, he thought scathingly. Obviously the boy hadn't realised that he did not appreciate preparing meals that Potter was just going to let go to waste. Cleaning up his dish he made his way into the sitting room, selecting a text to read whilst awaiting Potter's arrival for his memory session. It was only when the mantelpiece clock struck seven that Snape realised Potter had not yet appeared. Just what was the boy playing at? Shutting his book with a snap he got up angrily intent on dragging Potter downstairs by his ear for wasting his time.

'POTTER!' he yelled as he approached the stairs.

The boy didn't answer which only served to infuriate Snape further. It was only as he reached the landing that he noticed Potter's door was wide open and the light off.

'What the –

He entered the room and with a swift glance confirmed that Potter was not in his room. Potter's owl hooted at him from where she was perched on the window sill.

'Where is the brat?' he directed at the owl, letting out some of his frustration.

Turning on his heel he left the room, heading back downstairs.

'Potter, you have ten seconds to present yourself,' he called out angrily. 'And you better have a damn good explanation of what you've been doing!'

He waited five seconds before casting a '_Homenum Revelio'_.

He swore viciously out loud. Potter was not in the house.

'Where the hell are you Potter?' he growled aloud before making his way to the door. It was absolutely pouring outside, Snape noted with annoyance. He had no wish to spend the night hunting for Potter in the rain – that is if the boy hasn't been murdered, he thought grimly. He cast a quick '_Point Me'_ spell. It wouldn't pinpoint Potter – he'd have needed an active tracking spell for that – but it would give him a general idea of which direction Potter was in. Scowling darkly he cast a quick '_Impervius!' _on himself before turning on the spot and apparating half a mile in the direction indicated. He appeared on the bank of the river – the rain and the darkness meant he would be relatively safe from prying muggle eyes. He cast another '_Point Me_', it seemed Potter was still ahead of him; again he apparated half a mile. He continued in a like manner for several miles until his '_Point Me_' spell pointed back in the direction he'd come. He realised he was close to where Lily had grown up. Turning on the spot, Snape disapparated back a quarter of a mile, appearing in the cluster of trees he and Lily had often met up in. His '_Point Me'_ pointed ahead of him so he knew he was now within a quarter of a mile of Potter.

Realising it would be useless to continue apparating Snape set off along the path towards the playground. He sincerely hoped Potter was not in the playground. He had avoided this area since sixth year. The summer following the disastrous OWLs incident, Snape had spent almost the entire summer loitering here in the hope of catching Lily and having her accept his apology. She had not come once and he had bitterly realised that their friendship had been utterly destroyed. From that point on he had thrown himself whole-heartedly into the work of the Dark Lord. He had been a fool, and it had cost him dearly.

He reached the edge of the clearing and looked across at the park. A figure could be seen sitting on one of the swings. It seemed luck was not on his side. Potter had, of course, chosen to come to the playground. He was sitting on the swings, oblivious to Snape's presence and completely drenched. Snape had wasted nearly an hour looking for the boy and the fact that he was here of all places did nothing to diminish Snape's fury. He strode quickly across the park reaching the boy in seconds. Potter had not looked up at the sound of his approach and Snape was astonished to find him sleeping. Smiling with vindictive pleasure he seized Potter's arm and pulled him roughly to his feet. He was only vaguely aware that Potter was as cold as ice and shivering; he was much more focused on forcing Potter to his feet. The boy had struggled the moment his hand had closed on his arm and had attempted to throw him off. As soon as he realised it was Snape though he'd stopped struggling and Snape had promptly disapparated to the doorstep of Spinner's End. He opened the door and Potter meekly followed him in.

'Get in,' he said curtly, pushing Potter into the sitting room. The boy stood before him, staring ahead at a spot above Snape's shoulder. Snape noted with distaste that the boy was dripping onto the carpet. He muttered a quick drying charm but Potter seemed not to notice. This only served to annoy Snape more and his face flushed in anger as he addressed the boy.

'As arrogant as always Potter,' he began, his tone laced with disgust. 'Or has it slipped your mind that the Dark Lord will stop at nothing to have you killed? I did not think I needed to warn you that you were not to leave the property at any time. I see I overestimated your intelligence though. And to find you _sleeping _in a park! Have you no sense at all boy? Time and again people risk their lives for you, Potter and you throw it all away on a whim. You disgust me.' Potter's face flushed at that he noted satisfactorily. 'Explain your behaviour today.'

'I was frustrated and angry – I needed to escape – so I went for a run.' Potter answered in a monotone 'I stopped at the playground because I was tired.'

Snape stared at him incredulously; all this because Potter wanted to stretch his legs.

'Get out of my sight Potter. You are not to leave the property again. Do you understand? We shall discuss your punishment in the morning'

Harry nodded glumly in response. It had been stupid to go off like that, but he'd been so frustrated and the feeling of being trapped had been too great. He left the room before Snape changed his mind and made his way up to his room. He wasn't particularly worried about the punishment – he suspected it would be similar to detention. As he entered his room he shivered uncontrollably. His clothes may have been dried but he'd spent close to four hours out in the rain. He stripped off the clothes he'd been wearing before and pulled on the warmest clothes he could find in his trunk before getting into bed. He hadn't closed his door but he didn't have the energy to get up now. Instead he used the last of his strength to cast a silencing charm before his eyes closed and he was asleep.

XXXX

It was late when Snape finally shut the book he'd been perusing, to stop himself dwelling entirely on Potter's idiotic behaviour. As he reached the landing he noted that Potter's door had been left open. Wondering what mischief the boy was playing at now – Potter's door had been shut every night of his stay – he entered the room wand in hand.

'_Lumos_' he muttered.

His wand tip flared to life, casting the room in a dim light. His eyes were drawn immediately to the bed, where Potter – who was wearing at least three jumpers – was thrashing around as though possessed. Snape stared at the bed for a second before he realised what was missing. Potter's mouth was open and he was clearly yelling but Snape could hear nothing. Intrigued he pointed his wand at Potter.

'_Finite Incantatem!'_

The silencing spell broken Potter's yells became audible.

'NOOOO, DON'T KILL CEDRIC' Potter cried.

Stowing his wand carefully Snape realised he'd have to wake Potter, much to his own disgust, but it wouldn't do to have the boy yell himself hoarse. Potter's sheets were completely tangled and Snape noticed that he was sweating profusely. He reached for Potter's arm, to shake the boy awake and noted with shock that Potter was burning up. The listless way Potter had been when he'd found and questioned him suddenly made sense. The boy had been soaked and had obviously succumbed to a fever. He cursed his lack of insight – he'd thought the boy had just been behaving insolently. Realising that it was much more important that he wake Potter now, he turned and shook the boy vigorously.

Potter's eyes flashed open and Snape noted they were dulled. The boy looked around him in confusion, still struggling against Snape.

'Calm down Potter,' he said stiffly, avoiding one of the boy's flailing limbs. He needed the boy to calm down so he could fetch a Fever Reducer – Poppy would murder him if she ever found out he'd sent Potter to bed ill. It seemed his words had had the opposite effect on Potter though because the boy struggled even more.

'Let me go,' Potter yelled out. 'Get away from me, you Death Eater!'

Snape dropped his hold on Potter in shock. What was the boy playing at?

WHAM!

A fist connected with Snape's nose and he felt it break. Snape cursed in pain as blood flowed freely from his nose. His eyes watering in pain he looked up to find a bewildered Potter eyeing him apologetically. It seemed that Potter had finally recognised him, he thought sarcastically. He withdrew his wand from his inside pocket, Potter flinched but he ignored the boy, instead turning the wand on himself.

'_Episkey_' he muttered through clenched teeth. It wasn't the first time he'd broken his nose – and he doubted it would be the last time – but he'd forgotten just how painful it was. He let out an involuntary hiss as the bone clicked audibly back into place.

'I'm sorry sir,' Potter began immediately upon seeing Snape's nose was fixed. 'I didn't realise it was you – I was confused. I never meant to break your nose sir!'

'Quiet Potter,' he growled. He left the stunned teenager kneeling on his bed before exiting the room. Unfortunately he couldn't blame the brat for breaking his nose. He'd seen the confusion in Potter's eyes before he'd been struck. He'd obviously thought he was still in the graveyard and had of course panicked when Snape had grabbed him. Still he couldn't help but think the boy had reacted so badly because he'd woken to find a known Death Eater looming over him. Regardless of his role as a spy, the mark on his left forearm labelled him for eternity. He reached his potion stores and searched quickly for a Fever Reducer.

He paused before shutting the cabinet. He'd noticed Potter had been becoming more and more exhausted over the last two weeks. It was plausible that the boy had not been sleeping properly – if he'd been having nightmares regularly enough to warrant a silencing charm – it certainly seemed likely Snape thought. For that reason he pocketed a Dreamless Sleep potion also. He couldn't have Potter slacking off he reasoned to himself. But he knew that wasn't the only reason. Snape knew very well what it was like to suffer constant nightmares. He'd offer Potter some temporary relief until he'd got his memories in order. He returned to find Potter in the same position. He carefully withdrew the Fever Reducer from his pocket and handed it to Potter.

Potter eyed it suspiciously.

'You have a fever Potter,' he explained tiredly. 'No doubt from your time spent in the rain today' he added sarcastically. 'This is a Fever Reducer.' He indicated the bottle Potter now held. Potter nodded in understanding and downed the bottle without protest.

'Now Potter,' Snape began silkily, 'how long have you been casting a silencing charm on yourself?' The boy never did things by halves, he thought sardonically as he watched Potter pale. 'The truth if you please, Potter.' He paused expectantly.

Harry was staring resolutely at the floor. He was not only highly embarrassed that he'd broken the Professor's nose but he had no desire to share his nightmares with the man. Snape's tone left no room for argument though.

'Since the first night here,' Harry began miserably. 'I realised I'd woken yelling, but you were err – unconscious sir, so you didn't hear me. I thought it'd be best if I cast a silencing charm so I didn't disturb your sleep in the future. My uncle hates it when I wake everyone up because of some stupid nightmare,' he finished bitterly.

Snape was studying Harry carefully and Harry felt he better explain himself more fully.

'I didn't mean to call you a Death Eater sir,' he said quietly. 'I was dreaming of the night at the graveyard and I was confused when you woke me up. I know you're not a Death Eater sir.'

Snape remained impassive but his eyes bored into Harry's. Harry got the feeling he was deciding whether Harry meant what he'd said.

'How much sleep have you been getting Potter?' Snape asked suddenly, he was fiddling with another vial in his hand.

'Err –

'Take this for tonight. It's Dreamless Sleep. We'll discuss this in the morning'

Harry sighed in relief. His previous exhaustion had returned and he'd wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep – despite his fear of more nightmares.

'You will not cast any more silencing charms Potter.' Snape said warningly. 'Understood?'

'Yes sir,' Harry nodded glumly.

Snape handed him the vial of Dreamless Sleep but a thought occurred to Harry before he could drink it.

'What decides what I remember, sir? I mean I still don't remember anything about you sir, but I've remembered all the stuff I wish I'd still forgotten.'

Snape weighed his answer carefully before replying.

'I'm no expert on the matter Potter, but I believe the bond you've formed controls what you remember. I believe it's returning what it thinks are the most important memories for your survival first. It is a safety mechanism after all. You've remembered nothing of me yet because your mind has recognised my mind within yours. As such, your mind would believe that it was least important for you to have your memories of me because I am obviously helping you to regain the rest of your memories. It is likely that my presence may also influence what you remember.'

Which would explain why he doesn't remember his Godfather, Snape thought to himself. His mind was definitely influencing Potter's if he had not already remembered the mutt. The bizarre thing was that some part of Potter's subconscious was suppressing the thoughts also.

Snape handed the vial to Potter, who accepted it without question this time. The boy downed the potion in one and its effect was obvious immediately. Potter's lids began to droop yet the stupid brat remained kneeling on his bed.

'I am sorry sir,' Potter mumbled sleepily before his eyes shut completely and he fell forward.

Snape caught the idiotic child before he crashed off the bed.

'Potter,' he growled but the boy was unconscious.

Sighing in annoyance he heaved the slight boy up and back onto the bed. He pulled the sheets down quickly before roughly shoving Potter's head onto the pillow. He was going to walk away then, leaving the boy sprawled on the bed but something stopped him. He looked at Potter, taking in his peaceful expression – the boy had never looked so care free in his presence before – and then for some unknown reason he pulled the sheets up and covered Potter properly. Shocked at what he had done he turned on his heel and scowling left for his own room.

XXXX

**A/N**: I spent quite a while trying to get my dates right for this story. Unfortunately it's a bit vague and hard to pin down. I've assumed though that the Easter Holidays last for 2 weeks (please correct me if that's not the general case in Britain). Using the 1996 calendar that means Easter Sunday fell on the 7th April. Anyway I intended to have Harry arrive back at Hogwarts for the week prior to OWLs - described as the week where the teachers no longer set homework. Hermione says in the first week of the Easter Holidays that it's six weeks until exams but that doesn't even take you to June so I think that may have been an oversight. Anyway all it means is Harry is going to be at Spinner's End for longer than I intended originally.

The point of that long explanation is I'm going to go through and put general dates at the top of the chapters just so everyone is aware of the time frame of each chapter. So, this chapter spanned over a week essentially - the second week of the school holidays. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Let me know how you think it went, I'm very interested to know how people are finding the story. In particular any feedback on the pace at which I'm progressing Harry/Snape's relationship would be great. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. It's great to know you're enjoying the story. Until next time :)


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 _21st - 22nd April 1996_

Harry woke feeling more refreshed than he had since first arriving at Spinner's End. The way the light was filtering in he figured it had to be at least 10am. He was surprised the Professor had let him sleep so long before remembering it was Sunday, meaning he only had a memory session scheduled. Besides it had been Snape himself who had dosed him with Dreamless Sleep so Harry figured he'd be allowed to get breakfast – despite the hour. At that thought his stomach rumbled loudly and he realised the last meal he'd eaten had been almost 24 hours ago.

He stretched contentedly in bed as the details of the previous night came back to him. He blushed as he realised in his feverish state he'd broken Snape's nose. The last thing he remembered was downing the Dreamless Sleep and then the sensation of falling off the bed. But he hadn't hit the floor he realised; Snape had caught him. The man had obviously then put him to bed also, because Harry didn't remember having the sheets on him when he'd fallen asleep. Harry was suddenly mortified to think that Snape had practically tucked him into bed. At the same time though a small part of him liked that Snape had made sure he was comfortable – even though Snape still gave the impression that there was something he absolutely despised about Harry.

Sighing, Harry finally got up. He noticed with amusement that he was wearing three Weasley jumpers. Pulling them off, he walked bare-chested into the neighbouring bathroom and showered quickly. He doubted Snape would be around – the previous Sunday he'd avoided Harry except for meals and the memory session – and so he didn't bother drying his hair. Instead he descended the stairs hair wet and all over the place, wearing a pair of Dudley's old jeans, a t-shirt that had definitely seen better days and a pair of ridiculous socks he'd found rolled in his trunk. One was bright red, with a pattern of broomsticks whilst the other was green, patterned with snitches. He entered the dining room and stopped abruptly in surprise.

Snape was sitting at the table reading the _Daily Prophet_, a cup of coffee positioned within reach. He looked up at Harry over the top of his newspaper, taking in his appearance. He scowled at the messy hair before raising an eyebrow and smirking at Harry's socks.

'So nice of you to join the land of the living Potter,' he said sardonically. There was a hint of amusement in the man's tone though so Harry decided it was safe to enter. He noticed Snape had left a plate of scrambled eggs, under a warming charm, in his place. He sat down and dug into them immediately, savouring the taste. Snape eyed him distastefully from over his newspaper.

'Slow down Potter; no need to inhale your food. Anyone would think you'd been starved.'

Harry paused, fork halfway to his mouth and shot Snape a quizzical look. It was only then that Snape realised the boy hadn't eaten the night before. Cursing himself for the oversight on his part he addressed Harry.

'There are some leftovers in the fridge if you want to finish those off also.'

Harry looked up in surprise and found that Snape was steadfastly ignoring him and had instead addressed his newspaper in a bored tone. Smirking at the man's antics, Harry finished his scrambled eggs and grabbed some of the leftovers from yesterday.

'Thanks sir,' he said gratefully as he sat back down.

Snape just snorted in response, still hidden behind his newspaper. Harry wondered why he was still at the table. Snape normally did his best to avoid Harry but it definitely seemed as though Snape had been waiting for him at the table.

'You weren't – err – waiting for me or anything were you sir?' Harry questioned hesitantly.

Snape just shot him a glare from over the top of his newspaper. Harry took that as a yes and wondered exactly what the man was up to. He eyed him more closely and noticed that Snape had been on the same page for the last ten minutes and was gripping the newspaper with rather more force than was strictly necessary. It was like the man was steeling himself for something. Snape caught Harry looking and sent him a scowl before fishing a potion vial out of his pocket. Harry grimaced immediately upon recognition.

'You missed your dose last night, so I took the liberty of preparing another for you this morning.' Snape said silkily, smirking openly at the boy's discomfit.

'You really shouldn't have sir,' Harry said sarcastically, before accepting the vial and downing it hurriedly.

Snape made an odd sound and Harry realised with a start that Snape had just laughed at his theatrics. He finished up the leftovers and cleaned his dishes up before walking back into the dining room to find that Snape had folded his newspaper and was now looking at Harry expectantly.

'Err – I'll just go upstairs and work on my homework, sir.' Harry said, unsure as to why Snape was still at the table. He gestured towards the stairs and made to move towards them but Snape stopped him.

'I don't think so Mister Potter,' Snape said silkily. 'I do believe we have a conversation to continue and if I'm not mistaken we have yet to discuss your punishment for yesterday's little fiasco.'

Snape stood as he finished and gestured for a reluctant Harry to lead the way into the sitting room. Snape took his seat in the armchair whilst Harry settled for the sofa. He avoided looking at Snape, instead trying to gauge the weather outside by looking through the window.

'Right Potter, I have no desire to drag this conversation out for longer than I must. If I ask you a question I expect you to answer and to answer me truthfully. With the full truth mind you Potter, do not think you can slip half truths past me. Need I remind you that I do not like liars? Particularly one's who waste my time.' He levelled a glare at Harry until he nodded.

Snape was right, he had no desire to lengthen this discussion, he thought. It was uncomfortable enough for both of them. Harry had agreed to answer Snape honestly and completely but that didn't mean he wouldn't be asking his own questions he thought smugly. If Snape was going to question him about his childhood, Harry believed he had every right to question Snape about his own.

'How much sleep have you been getting Potter,' Snape asked immediately.

'Um – a few hours a night...' Harry trailed off hoping that would be enough detail. Snape raised an eyebrow and Harry realised he'd better specify. 'Ah –two or three some nights, four or five if I'm lucky.'

'And why did you not inform me that you were not sleeping Potter?' Snape growled. He couldn't believe the boy had been so stupid as to carry on like this for two weeks without asking for help. He noted that Potter was looking at him as though he had two heads. It seemed Potter thought the answer was fairly obvious.

'Because I didn't think you'd be interested or that you'd help me if I did ask,' Harry finally mumbled, staring resolutely at a spot 10inches above Snape's head. He couldn't believe Snape had actually suggested that he should have come to him for help. Harry's experience with adults had left him with the definite belief that you never asked for help.

'And who gave you that impression Potter?' Snape asked quietly.

Harry looked at Snape for a moment, weighing up his options. If he answered, he knew it'd be all the motivation Snape needed to question him much more thoroughly on the Dursleys. He'd also be exposing himself more to someone than he ever had in his life. The only question was did he trust Snape's word. And to his own astonishment he did. He didn't know much about Snape but he knew that the man would keep his word. And so he answered.

'My Uncle'

It was barely a whisper but he knew Snape had heard him. The man stiffened slightly but that was the only response he gave.

Snape couldn't believe Potter had opened up to him of all people. He had expected Potter to whine and protest constantly but the boy had surprised him once again and given in resignedly. He knew Potter needed to talk about the abuse but Snape cursed that it was him the boy had chosen. What in the blazes had he done to earn the trust of Harry Potter?

'Until you have dealt with your memories I will allow you to take Dreamless Sleep, if you feel that you require it. You are not to cast anymore silencing charms and you are to tell me if you are not sleeping.' Snape said suddenly.

It was out before he could stop it. As if he cared if the boy was sleeping or not, he thought angrily. He hadn't thought before opening his mouth. Merlin help him if Potter thought this gave him leave to come crying to Snape with nightmares. He could not help Potter with his guilt issues. Snape had more than a lifetime of his own guilt which he had yet to deal with. And, he thought horrified, if Albus ever found out he'd considered Potter's welfare he'd never hear the end of it. Potter was looking at him gratefully and he realised that was all Potter needed; just the semblance that someone cared enough to think about him. The boy was more messed up than he'd originally thought if he was under the impression Snape cared about him.

An uncomfortable silence fell. Snape knew he needed to question Potter more closely about his relatives but he had no idea how to confront Potter. Meanwhile Harry was staring determinedly out the window. As though by ignoring Snape he could make the problem go away.

'When did your relatives first lock you in the cupboard under the stairs?' Snape said bluntly. He'd decided that the best approach was to just ask Potter and if the boy clammed up he could just resort to threats.

Harry continued to stare out the window, ignoring Snape completely. Snape was just about to demand an answer when Harry spoke up quietly. His eyes still fixed on a distant object only he could see.

'I – I don't remember exactly. I don't think they did immediately; I was only just over one when my parents died. I think they just kept me in a separate room then. It was once Dudley started to talk and walk that they put me in the cupboard. They didn't want me near him,' Harry finished lamely.

Snape kept his face blank but underneath he was seething. If their positions had been reversed Lily would have loved Petunia's child, even a muggle, he thought angrily. Petunia had always been jealous. But to think that she took her jealously out on an innocent child – it was criminal.

'So you spent ten years living in a cupboard Potter?' Snape finally asked.

Potter looked up at him and met his gaze. The green eyes searched the black before Harry nodded once. And as he did Snape thought he saw some relief enter the boy's eyes; relief that he had finally let someone know.

'It's alright now though sir, I've definitely got a room now. I remembered last night the Weasley's rescued me from it before second ye...' Harry trailed off suddenly; aware that he had said too much.

Snape had heard though and a look of shock flitted briefly across his face before it was safely secured behind his mask.

'And just why would you need to be rescued from your relatives Potter?'Snape asked quietly.

There was a dangerous undertone to his question though, and Harry knew it would be foolish not to answer. He stared out the window again, cursing silently. He'd let his tongue get away from him and now Snape knew there was more Harry was hiding. It was bad enough that Snape knew he'd slept in a cupboard for ten years, could he really risk telling the man that the Dursleys had periodically starved him? Well, he thought grimly, in for a penny in for a pound. Snape knew too much already, telling him more wasn't going to change much.

'There was a house elf,' Harry began, 'Dobby; he came to warn me that it would be dangerous if I went back to school that year. To cut a long story short he performed magic in front of my relatives, who were entertaining guests in the hope of my Uncle getting a pay rise. To say the least they were furious. They locked me in my room indefinitely. Uncle Vernon took a lot of pleasure in having bars fitted to the window and personally installing a cat flap. They pushed soup through every now and then and let me out to use the bathroom twice a day but that was all I saw of them. Luckily Ron and his brothers turned up in the middle of the night on the third day and got me out,' Harry finished lightly.

He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as he thought wistfully of that day. Escaping the Dursleys had been brilliant – he'd got to spend the rest of the summer with the Weasley's.

'Had they ever locked you up before Potter?' Snape asked. His voice was strangled as though he was suppressing rage, Harry noted curiously. In fact the man looked like he'd been hit with a bulldozer. It seemed that Snape was having trouble holding his emotionless mask in place. Well, at least I know he's human, Harry thought amusedly. He knew he was making light of a serious situation but it was his life, he'd lived through it once already and that was enough for him. He found it was easier to relate it to Snape if he focused on the good things.

Snape was still waiting expectantly for an answer. Harry just nodded as he returned his attention to the window in the hope that Snape wouldn't ask him to elaborate.

'How many times and for how long Potter?' Snape asked impatiently.

'Whenever they didn't want me around sir,' Harry answered sarcastically. 'If I wasn't being useful for them they'd lock me in the cupboard. Or if I'd done something stupid, like accidental magic, then they'd lock me up for that too,' he said bitterly.

And then suddenly he couldn't hold it back, he needed to tell someone. Needed them to understand what it had felt like, to be a terrified five year old, locked in a cupboard for a reason you couldn't understand.

'But I didn't know what it was. I couldn't explain how I'd made things happen: how I'd grown my hair back, how I'd appeared on the top of a roof or how I'd vanished Dudley's stupid toys. And I couldn't understand why they continued to hate me, after I'd done everything they'd asked of me. They hated the sight of me, the mere thought of me and so they locked me in the cupboard in the hope that I'd disappear. Sometimes it was for hours, sometimes it was for days. The worst was just before I came to Hogwarts. I'd been allowed to go to the zoo with them for Dudley's birthday. Dudley pushed me over, I was hurt and angry, and so I accidently vanished the glass to the boa constrictor enclosure. That time they locked me in for weeks, with no meals. I stole what food I could from the fridge at night, but they were the worst weeks of my life because nobody had the decency to explain magic to me,' Harry finished angrily.

He continued to stare out the window. He felt as though a great weight had been lifted from him. He doubted Snape even cared, but the fact that the man had remained in the room and listened was all that mattered.

Snape simply stared at the boy before him, for that was all he was – a child. A child who had lived a lifetime already; done more than most adult wizards would do in two lifetimes. And he hadn't even reached the end yet. Snape knew part of the prophecy and he knew what Dumbledore expected from Potter, and for the first time ever he wondered whether this boy would be able to cope. Were they asking too much from Potter? To leave the fate of the Wizarding world in the hands of a fifteen year old boy, because one ridiculous Seer thought it should be so, seemed ludicrous. Yet the two most powerful wizards in the world were fighting to make it so. And in that moment Snape realised that Potter could not do it alone; that he needed help. For some unknown reason the boy had chosen to trust Snape and the man realised he could never betray that trust. He would have to endure Potter for the sake of Lily – and for her sake only he reminded himself harshly. It was all for Lily; the spawn of Potter meant nothing to him. His conscience betrayed him though as he took in the dejected form sitting opposite him, defiantly staring out the window. It was not James Potter he saw before him. No, for the first time it was simply Lily Evans' son – Harry.

Snape turned his thoughts with some effort and instead focused on what the brat had just told him. His relatives had starved him and locked him in a cupboard for half his life and that was only the half of it. The boy certainly wasn't telling all; he was prepared to talk once Snape asked, it was just a matter of asking the right questions. A cold feeling settled in the pit of Snape's stomach. He hadn't thought to ask before, but now he wasn't sure what to expect; they were certainly capable of it he thought darkly. He steeled himself, ensuring his mask was tightly in place – he couldn't afford to let it slip now, no matter what Potter's answer.

'Did your relatives ever punish you...' he paused, his voice suddenly hoarse. He hesitated, clearing his throat surreptitiously. Potter was looking at him now and something in the boy's gaze unnerved Snape. He hastened to finish – 'physically?'

'No my uncle never beat me, if that's what you mean,' Harry replied shrewdly.

He'd seen the way Snape had seized up as he asked the question. Harry didn't think the man had realised but he'd unconsciously curled his fingers into fists. He'd been clenching his fingers so tightly that Harry had noticed a small trickle of blood slide down Snape's wrist. At first he'd just thought Snape had meant getting the odd smack or so – or in Aunt Petunia's case dodging the odd fry pan – but the man's reaction had spoken volumes. Snape was asking if he'd ever been beaten. And by the way he was acting Harry had the sudden suspicion that Snape himself had been abused. Which meant his own father must have beaten him, he thought horrified. What sort of person does that to their own child?

Snape had relaxed visibly at Harry's statement. He caught Potter eyeing his hand and realised he was bleeding. Shocked that he'd let his father's memory get to him he decided it would be safest to keep Potter out of his sight for the remainder of the day. Clearing his throat he fixed Potter with a stern gaze.

'We have not finished with this topic Potter, but I do believe you have a punishment to fulfil. Perhaps a few hours collecting Flobberworm mucous will teach you not to go running off in the future.' He smirked at Potter's horrified expression before directing the boy towards the kitchen. He set up two buckets and left Potter to work, descending into his Lab.

XXXX

Harry watched Snape carefully as he ate dinner. The rest of Sunday had passed without incident as had most of today. Harry had realised with a shock this morning that everyone would be back at Hogwarts now for the final term. It was an odd feeling to know that school was on yet he was not attending. He played with his soup. Snape had been strangely on edge all day, as though he was waiting for something unavoidable and the feeling was beginning to wear off on Harry.

'Is something wrong sir?' Harry finally asked.

Snape looked up at him distractedly with a scowl. Suddenly the man grabbed his left forearm letting out a sharp hiss of pain. At the same time Harry felt his scar twinge and he flinched at the unexpected pain. He looked up to find that Snape had jumped up from the table and was now running up the stairs. Harry sat perplexed at the table but Snape was back within minutes. He was now dressed in fine dark robes and clutched a mask in his hand. Harry gaped at the mask and realised what Snape was wearing. Seeing where Harry was looking Snape shoved the mask behind his back before addressing Harry urgently.

'You must not leave the house Potter, no matter what. Do you understand?' Harry just stared at him, Snape's eyes were wide and Harry could tell he was anxious. 'Do you understand?' Snape had grabbed him by the shoulder painfully, forcing Harry's attention back to the present.

'Yes,' he replied. 'But...'

Snape let him go and made for the door immediately.

'I haven't got time to explain Potter,' he cut Harry off sharply. 'Drink your potions and go to bed.'

He looked back at Harry, and Harry noted that his eyes were cold and devoid of all emotion now. The man stepped onto the threshold closing the door behind him.

Snape stepped out, putting his mask on as he went. Ensuring his thoughts were secured he turned on the spot and disapparated away.

XXXX

Harry lay sprawled out on his bed reading through a third year charms book. It was almost eleven and Snape had yet to return. Despite having been instructed to go to bed Harry had no intention of sleeping until he heard Snape come in. The man had been on edge all day, obviously expecting to be called, and not for a good reason. Harry was also pretty sure Dumbledore hadn't visited again, which meant Snape was on his own with regard to fake memories. Harry wasn't entirely sure what Dumbledore had meant by the memories but he remembered Snape hadn't seemed thrilled that he may have had to do it alone.

Over the last few hours his scar had prickled uncomfortably but Harry was more concerned by his building headache. He flicked his wand to shut the light off and lay back against his pillow, hoping the darkness would ease his headache. His eyelids felt hot and he allowed them to close, suddenly...

He was sitting in a throne like chair, raised on a dais, in a vast room. A table stretched below him. Chairs pushed back haphazardly, as though they had been recently occupied, parchments bundled at the head of the table. He was twirling a stick of Yew casually with long, pale fingers.

Below him a figure knelt before him, head bowed, staring fixedly at the floor.

'You cannot imagine my surprise this morning Severus, when dear Lucius informed me that you had taken leave from Hogwarts,' said Harry in a high, cruel voice. He paused but the man before him said nothing. 'Particularly since you had been given strict instructions by _me_ to remain at Hogwarts until told otherwise,' he allowed some of his fury to enter his voice and he watched satisfied as the man before him stiffened slightly. Bracing himself for what he knew was about to come.

'_Crucio!_' Harry cried, in the same cold, cruel voice.

He watched in delight as the man before him wreathed in pain. He felt only slight annoyance that the man determinedly kept his mouth shut, defying him. He lifted the curse reluctantly after a minute but he would make Snape scream before the night was out.

'My Lord, I ask your pardon,' Snape began, short of breath.

'And what possible reason could you have, Severus, for defying my orders?' asked Harry.

'Dumbledore, My Lord. He ordered me to take leave. I could not sway him on the matter My Lord.'

'Yet you neglected to inform me of your change in situation Severus,' Harry began silkily. 'I wonder about your..._loyalty_.' Snape flinched at his tone.

'My Lord...'

'_Crucio!_' Harry cried again, cutting off Snape's response.

This time he held the curse for over five minutes and watched as Snape struggled to contain his screams. He smirked at the lengths that Snape would go to maintain his dignity.

'My Lord...let me explain,' gasped Snape. He was sweating slightly now and Harry noted satisfactorily that the man could not stop his left hand from twitching.

'Very well Severus, what is your excuse this time?' he asked in a bored voice.

'Dumbledore has ordered me...to monitor corrupt Ministry workers. He...he believes you are still focused on...the prophecy My Lord, but that you are also...infiltrating the Ministry. This is the first time I have...been called, My Lord, since I began the work...that is why you had not heard. Though I am not surprised that Draco...saw fit to inform Lucius,' Snape explained, breathing heavily. His eyes were still focused on the ground as Harry considered his words.

'Look at me Severus,' he said dangerously.

Snape complied immediately and suddenly Harry was inside his memories. He hunted through them roughly, searching for any discrepancies to what Snape had told him. He watched the old fool ordering Severus to investigate a number of corrupt officials and briefly examined a few memories of Severus' dealings with the corrupt ministers.

'You certainly haven't been working very hard Severus,' Harry began softly. 'For two weeks work you have done almost nothing. Even a fool like Dumbledore, must be curious as to why you have gathered almost no intelligence for him.' He paused before continuing in a hard, cold voice. 'Need I remind you Severus, as to the importance of your position? You are useless to me if you cannot maintain your position with Dumbledore. Or are you hiding something from me Severus?'

Snape did not respond, remaining still as he kneeled before Harry.

'_Crucio!_'

He held the curse for over ten minutes this time; Snape was very close to breaking point he noted delightedly. A harsh scream broke the silence. Harry smiled in glee. He held the curse for a few more moments, enjoying Snape's screams.

The moment he lifted the curse Snape curled into a ball, breathing heavily. Harry approached him. He grabbed a fistful of the man's hair and pulled his head up sharply.

'Do not defy me again Severus,' he whispered threateningly.

He dropped the man's head promptly before casually kicking him in the chest. He heard a snap, followed by a sharp intake of breath. He returned to his seat and waited patiently for Snape to resume kneeling. He was pleased to note that the man was now shaking uncontrollably and his breathing was laboured. The man would not be quick to displease him again.

'Do not compromise yourself again by being lazy Severus.' Harry addressed Snape in a bored tone.

'Yes, My Lord,' Snape replied hoarsely.

'Very well, Severus,' the cold voice addressed Snape, this time laced with amusement 'before you leave...'

'_Sectumsempra!_' Harry thought, as he slashed his wand at Snape's right shoulder.

Snape let out a strangled gasp, before pressing his left hand against his right shoulder in an attempt to stop the blood flow.

'I thought I might provide you with an alibi for Dumbledore. It might help you explain why you've been so useless to him.'

'Thank you... My...Lord,' Snape gasped out, before leaning forward shakily and kissing the hem of Harry's robe. Harry smirked as the man got to his feet, shaking uncontrollably, and made his way, hunched over towards the door. Harry stood, and approached one of the French doors intent on watching the man struggle towards the apparition boundary. As he approached the door he caught sight of his reflection. Red eyes stared back at him...a white skull like face...slits for pupils...

'AHHHHHHHHHH!'

Miles away Harry Potter woke yelling from his sleep. Clutching his scar, which was burning painfully he sat bolt upright in bed. His only thought – to find Snape as quickly as possible.

XXXX

**A/N**: This chapter came out a bit longer than I expected, so it's been left on a bit of a cliff-hanger. I meant to have this chapter out earlier but got delayed. Hopefully you won't have to wait too long for the next chapter. Thanks again to everyone who's reviewed. I'd be interested to hear your views on this chapter, particularly on the Death Eater interaction. Until next time :)


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 _22nd - 26th April 1996_

Harry raced downstairs pulling on a jacket as he went. As he reached the bottom of the stairs he stopped suddenly and vomited. He felt his legs give way beneath him and reached out a hand to steady himself against the wall. He slid down the wall coming to a rest on the bottom stair. Sweat poured down his face and he fought the urge to vomit again. Pulling his wand out, he vanished the vomit before leaning back against the wall. He closed his eyes and willed away the urge to vomit; calming his breathing as he focused his thoughts.

Harry screwed his hands into fists and pressed them tightly against his eyes; trying to erase the memories of what he'd done to Snape. He couldn't deny it, he'd cast those curses at Snape and the man's pain had been terrifyingly real. He wanted to leave the house to find Snape and help him. The man had been bleeding profusely, that final curse he'd used had nearly sliced Snape's arm off he thought queasily.

He was at the door, when Snape's words came back to him: '_you must not leave the house Potter, no matter what_'. And he'd agreed. Besides he had no idea where Snape could be, he thought belatedly. Harry realised the only thing he could do was wait for Snape to return. So, he made his way into the sitting room, taking a seat on the sofa. He noticed with a start that it was almost midnight. As he sat on the sofa he felt his heart rate slow as the adrenaline left his system. Almost against his will he felt his eyes begin to shut and before he knew it he was sound asleep on the sofa.

XXXX

A deafening crash woke Harry. He sprang up from the couch blearily, confused as to where he was. He crashed into the armchair with a muffled curse before he realised he was in the sitting room. Another crash had Harry instantly on the alert – someone was in the house. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and entered the hall warily. A light was on in the kitchen he noted. It was highly likely that the 'intruder' was Snape, but Harry wasn't taking chances. The man was anything but clumsy. He approached the kitchen quietly, all the time listening intently. He stepped into the kitchen, wand held steadily aloft. The intruder was wearing dark, travel worn robes, their back to Harry as they fiddled with something at the bench.

'Turn around,' he commanded, pointing his wand directly at the man.

The intruder stopped and turned quickly in surprise.

All Harry saw was the mask. It was a Death Eater.

He was about to cast, when the man pulled the mask off. It was Snape. Harry nearly dropped his wand in shock.

'Potter, I told you to go to bed,' Snape said huskily. It was almost a question and Harry realised the man was confused and quite possibly delirious.

Harry took a second to look at Snape properly. He wasn't standing at the bench; he was leaning heavily against it, as though he was unable to support his own weight. His breathing was rapid but laboured and his face abnormally pale. He was sweating profusely and was staring at Harry in confusion, his eyes glassy and dulled with pain. His right arm was hanging uselessly by his side, drenched in blood and Harry wondered how he was still standing – he looked as though he'd lost at least 2 litres. Most disconcertingly he was shaking all over, testament to his torture under the Cruciatus Curse, Harry thought grimly. Realising that Snape was rapidly going into shock, Harry knew he'd need to act quickly.

'Yes sir couldn't sleep though,' he rambled as he approached Snape. 'Perhaps it'd be best if you sat down sir.'

Snape stared at him blankly before allowing Harry to gently push him into a sitting position, leaning his back against the sink cupboard. Harry cursed to himself silently as he rapidly tried to remember everything he'd ever learnt about First Aid. He knew the most pressing matter was to deal with Snape's blood loss. He realised he'd need to see the wound if he was going to be any help. Steeling himself for what he was about to do and hoping beyond hope that Snape would not remember in the morning he gently pulled off the man's outer robe. The right sleeve was completely soaked in blood, Harry noted worriedly. The white cotton button down Snape had had on underneath was now almost entirely red. He undid the buttons quickly but Snape was too far gone to notice. Pulling it off he grimaced at Snape's shoulder. A great gash ran from below his collar bone, passing his armpit, and cutting deeply into the inside of his forearm. Harry grimaced at the sight of muscle, and what he thought could be bone. From the amount of blood Snape had lost already Harry thought the curse must have severed an artery, which was bad news for Snape. He also suspected that the nerves had been severed to the limb, given how the arm had been hanging uselessly by Snape's side. He pulled out his wand and tried the few healing spells that he knew. Dismayed he watched in horror as not one worked.

Snape's head fell forward onto his chest and Harry realised with a start that the man was close to losing consciousness.

'Sir, listen to me,' he said hurriedly as he shook Snape's other shoulder. 'Sir...sir, what can I put on your arm to stop the bleeding? Please sir?'

His pleas became more desperate as he repeated the question. Snape was barely responsive, muttering incoherently to Harry.

'Essence...of Dittany,' the man finally mumbled.

Harry jumped up immediately and raced into Snape's lab. He wasn't sure what Essence of Dittany was but it sounded vaguely familiar and it was the only sane thing Snape had mumbled in his confusion. He desperately hoped the Professor had understood what'd he'd asked. He scanned Snape's shelves, but he had no idea what system the man used to store his potions. He saw Blood Replenishing Potions and grabbed a few of those – Snape would definitely need them.

'_Accio Essence of Dittany!_' he cried, in a last ditch attempt.

To his absolute surprise a small bottle zoomed into his hand immediately. He nearly dropped it in shock; he'd been having trouble with _Accio_ all week.

Taking the stairs two at a time he raced back up to find that Snape's head was lolling on his chest in unconsciousness. Harry dropped to his knees beside Snape. Grabbing the Essence of Dittany he dropped it along the wounds borders.

Snape jolted back into awareness hissing in pain as Harry watched in amazement as Snape's skin slowly stitched itself together. A jagged scar now ran along Snape's arm but Harry wasn't concerned. He was sure Snape would be able to do something about that once he was in his right state of mind. Harry seized on Snape's return to consciousness though, getting the man to down a vial of Blood Replenishing Potion immediately. Snape spluttered but he managed to swallow the majority of the potion.

Harry stood shakily, Snape was no longer bleeding out but he'd lost a lot of blood already. The Dittany had sealed the wound but Harry examined the wound doubtfully. It had been inflicted by a dark curse; it was plausible that the Dittany would only hold it for so long. He was also well aware that whatever nerve damage had occurred had not been repaired by the Dittany. Harry decided it would be best if he bound and secured the arm.

'I'll be right back sir,' he said quietly to Snape.

The man was still leaning against the cupboard but he appeared to be quite agitated. Harry stopped and crouched down next to Snape.

'Do you need something sir?'

Snape stared at him confusedly for a minute before answering Harry.

'I need...I need...some...water' he rasped out.

Harry stood hastily, turning towards the sink. It was there that he saw the glass and he realised that when he'd entered the kitchen Snape had been trying to fill it. He filled the glass with water and handed it to Snape, who drank greedily from it. Harry refilled it for him and filled another glass quickly before leaving the man, in search of something he could use as a bandage. He had no idea where Snape would keep medical supplies, if he did at all, so he searched briefly through the cupboards downstairs. Having no luck he tried the cupboard under the stairs, where he spotted a pile of rags. They were fairly clean so he grabbed them taking them with him back into the kitchen.

Snape looked up as he walked back in. Harry noted there was less confusion in the man's eyes, and they appeared less glazed, as he knelt next to him. It seemed that the fluids and Blood Replenishing Potion had begun to take effect.

'What are you doing Potter?' Snape asked sharply.

'You've lost a lot of blood sir. I tried a couple of spells to close the wound but they didn't work. You said Essence of Dittany, so I put some of that on and it seems to be holding. I think you must have severed the nerves to your arm though sir, so I was going to bind the arm, to stop the wound opening again and secure it so you don't damage it any further.' Harry explained patiently.

Snape glared at Harry before trying to lever himself up off the floor.

'Get out Potter, I don't need your help,' Snape hissed angrily.

Harry raised an eyebrow at Snape, in a marked likeness to the man before him. He stepped away from Snape.

'Alright sir,' Harry replied evenly.

He watched as Snape struggled to stand. He managed to get upright but his legs were unable to support his weight. He started to fall but Harry was there instantly, grabbing him tightly around the middle. Snape let out a strangled gasp, and Harry realised belatedly that he'd hit Snape's mottled side. It was only now that he noticed the extent of the bruising – Snape definitely had at least one broken rib. Easing the Professor back down Harry ignored the glare he was receiving and instead focused on shredding the rags into strips. The man is too proud for his own good, Harry thought wryly.

'Why aren't you asleep Potter? I told you to take your potions before I left.' Snape muttered angrily.

Harry smirked at Snape. The man obviously knew he needed Harry's help but he was definitely not happy about it.

'Wasn't tired,' Harry replied cheekily. There was no way he was going to tell Snape the real reason: that'd he'd been worried about him.

'Err – I don't know how clean these are sir, but they're the best I could find,' Harry said hesitantly as he finished preparing the rags.

Snape eyed the rags distastefully before using his left hand to pull his wand from his discarded robes. The wand shook as Snape pointed it at the pile of rags and muttered a cleansing spell.

'They're fine now Potter,' Snape mumbled, closing his eyes again as he leant his head back against the cupboard in exhaustion.

Even that small piece of magic had taken a lot out of Snape, his face taking on an ashen colour. Harry watched him worriedly as he hurriedly began to apply the makeshift bandage. He wrapped the strips tightly around the wound so that if it opened again Snape wouldn't bleed out. He used a sticking charm to hold them in place before gently positioning Snape's arm across his torso, elevating it slightly so that the fingers of Snape's right hand rested on his left shoulder. He used a larger rag to create a make-shift sling, securing Snape's arm safely out of the way. Snape opened his eyes as Harry leant back on his heels. The man examined Harry's handiwork but made no comment. Harry assumed that meant it was 'adequate'.

'Sir, do you know how many ribs you've broken?' asked Harry.

Snape looked down at his chest. His left side was a multicoloured mess, swollen and tender. He used his left hand to awkwardly palpate the area lightly to determine the damage. There was a lot of soft tissue injury which he wouldn't be able to deal with in his present state, he noted. He felt his lower ribs, taking in a sharp breath as pain flared across his chest. It felt like he'd broken two and possibly cracked a third. It didn't feel as though he'd punctured a lung though thankfully. He reached shakily for his wand, intent on repairing at least the broken ribs. A hand closed around his wrist though and he looked up blearily to find Potter looking at him anxiously.

'Sir, you'll faint if you do anymore magic,' Harry said worriedly. 'It's _Episkey_ right? I'll fix them for you sir; just tell me which ribs are broken.'

The boy maintained his grip on Snape's arm preventing him from healing himself. He knew the boy was talking sense, there was already darkness at the edge of his vision, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to trust Potter's spell work. The pain was getting to him though so he nodded briefly, giving his assent.

'Eleven and twelve are broken. Ten is cracked,' he breathed out.

He felt Potter lightly touch the area, checking he had the right ribs. Snape noted the boy was concentrating completely and with a start he realised the boy was unlikely to have ever used the spell before. He was about to push Potter away when the boy muttered '_Episkey!_' and he felt sudden heat followed by freezing cold in the rib. It was healed.

'Did that work sir?' Potter asked anxiously.

Snape nodded tersely, closing his eyes again. He felt Potter go through the same process twice more. His breathing eased considerably and he opened his eyes again.

'Have you got something you can take for the pain sir?'

He sighed. That was the worst of his afflictions. The Dark Lord had held him under the Cruciatus for close to fifteen minutes. It was the longest he had endured under the curse, excluding the night the Dark Lord had returned he thought bemusedly. He was in excruciating pain presently. His nerve endings were on fire and his muscles were periodically cramping. He was doing his best to hide it from Potter but he knew the boy was aware of his pain – it was impossible to contain all of the tremors that were racking his body.

'The curse is unforgiveable for a reason Potter,' he ground out bitterly.

Harry studied Snape for a moment. He could tell the man was in terrible pain, but was going to great lengths to hide his discomfit. He felt terrible – to know that he'd caused so much pain.

'I'm sorry sir,' he said abruptly.

'For what, Potter,' Snape spat out angrily.

Harry just stared at Snape but his tone warned Harry not to question him further. Harry remained crouched beside Snape, waiting to see if the Professor was ready to move upstairs.

'Just get out of my sight,' Snape finally growled out.

'So you're just going to sleep here are you sir?' asked Harry, smirking at Snape.

'I don't need your help Potter,' Snape began but Harry cut him off short.

'Too bad sir, you're getting it.'

With that he pulled Snape's left arm over his right shoulder and pulled the man to his feet. Snape began to protest immediately, threatening Harry with a lifetime of detention but he ignored him steadfastly.

'Look sir, you're not going to make it up the stairs on your own,' he replied steadily 'so for Merlin's sake just let me help you!'

Snape did not reply and Harry realised that even just standing had cost the man a lot. The man wasn't particularly heavy despite the fact that Harry was supporting him almost entirely. Might as well be carrying him, Harry thought sardonically as he manoeuvred their way to the stairs.

They were halfway up the stairs, Harry beginning to struggle under the weight, when Snape spoke.

'You truly have forgotten who I am Potter. Your father would be spinning in his grave to know you were helping me.'

Harry nearly dropped Snape in shock.

'You knew my father?' he asked surprised.

'We were at Hogwarts together,' Snape breathed out sourly.

From the way he spoke Harry got the distinct impression that Snape despised his father. He didn't know much about his father, but he knew he'd been popular and a bit of a rule breaker at school. Snape was the polar opposite, so he wasn't particularly surprised that Snape did not speak of his father warmly. He wondered vaguely what his father had done to make Snape hate him so. A thought suddenly occurred to him. Harry waited until they were on the landing before he spoke, watching Snape closely.

'What about my mother, you must have known her as well?'

The question caused an immediate response. Snape stiffened almost imperceptibly, but Harry felt it due to their close contact. At the same time a look of absolute, gut-wrenching pain crossed Snape's face. It was there for only a second before Snape's mask descended. It couldn't hide the grief that was rooted deep in the man's eyes though. There was something else as well but Harry couldn't tell what it was.

'Yes,' was all Snape said in reply, his voice husky, as he fought against his emotions.

Well, Harry thought to himself, he definitely knew my mother. Filing that information away for later – he'd definitely be asking Snape about it once he was back on his feet – he guided Snape steadily towards his room.

Harry expected Snape to protest vehemently as he opened the door to the man's room but it seemed he was deep in thought and not aware of his surroundings. Harry though was rather curious as to his surroundings and looked around him as he made his way to the bed.

Snape's room was larger than his, with a double bed and accompanying bedside table pushed against the back wall. A cluttered desk was to the side of the door, with a comfortable chair pushed neatly underneath. A fine wardrobe stood in the far corner, to the side of a curtained window. The remaining space was taken up with bookcases. Harry smirked to himself at that, it seemed Snape surrounded himself with books wherever he went.

He guided Snape to the bed and pulled the covers down with his free hand. Snape was fast becoming a dead weight and he struggled to deposit the man on the bed before he collapsed. It seemed the stairs had taken it out of him and he was now unconscious, sprawled out on his bed. Harry allowed himself to catch his breath before pushing Snape into a comfortable position, mindful of his tender ribs. As he did so he noticed it wasn't just tremors that were causing the man to shake; he was shivering. Harry cursed himself for not realising sooner and rushed over to Snape's wardrobe. He searched quickly until he found a dark flannel shirt. He slipped the shirt on Snape as best he could around the sling and pulled the covers up on the man.

Yawning he realised it was almost three in the morning. He went to his room and picked up the charms book he'd been reading, taking it back into Snape's room with him. He pulled Snape's desk chair out and sat down in it. He'd decided it would be best if he kept an eye on Snape, besides the man would need another Blood Replenishing dose in a few hours. Making himself comfortable he resumed his reading, settling in for the wait.

XXXX

Awareness returned to Snape slowly. The pain came first: a deep pain in his left side, a dull aching across his right arm and the familiar pain of the Cruciatus. Sound returned next. His own laboured breathing was harsh against his ears. But the sound of soft, deep breathing brought Snape back to consciousness rapidly. He opened his eyes, turning his head towards the source of the noise. It took his eyes a few moments to adjust to the darkness and a few moments more to process exactly what it was he was seeing. Potter was asleep in his desk chair, head tilted to the side and glasses digging into his face. What in Merlin's name is the boy doing in my room, Snape thought angrily.

'Potter,' he growled, pushing himself up so he wasn't lying flat, stifling a gasp of pain.

Potter jerked awake in such a comical manner that Snape would have laughed if he hadn't been so furious. The boy looked around him in a startled manner before realising it was Snape who had called him. And to Snape's utmost horror, upon realising so Potter simply leaned back into his chair, looking expectantly towards him. This served only to infuriate Snape further.

'What the hell are you doing in my room?' he demanded.

Potter sat up straight at that, considering his answer. Snape saw him consult his wristwatch, and wondered vaguely what time it was.

'Keeping an eye on you sir,' Potter finally replied.

The answer threw Snape, simply because Potter seemed to mean exactly that. His memory was hazy, clouded by the pain he'd been in, but he needed to order his thoughts. Potter had definitely found him after the meeting and had subsequently saved his life, he realised horrified. He didn't remember much after that, which meant he'd need to ask the brat what exactly had happened.

'What time is it Potter?' he snapped.

'About 4:30 in the morning sir, and its Wednesday.' Potter added helpfully.

Wednesday...that meant he'd been unconscious for an entire day, he realised. Potter was still speaking though.

'You've been pretty much unconscious since early Tuesday morning sir. You've had four doses of Blood Replenishing Potion in total. I followed the instructions on how often to give them sir, so you had your last dose around 4pm yesterday. You were unconscious for most of the time sir but you were pretty restless and you weren't sleeping. I offered to get you a Dreamless Sleep and you accepted. You've been sleeping ever since.'

Snape ignored Potter, instead focusing on manoeuvring himself into a sitting position from which he could get up from. Despite the early hour, he was wide awake now and had no wish to lie about in bed. Besides he needed to deal with his arm; he'd left it far too long already. The curse had completely destroyed his right brachial plexus, effectively rendering his right arm useless. Nerves could normally be repaired within hours if treatment was initiated within the first twelve hours. It was over twenty four hours for him though which meant his arm would be practically useless for the next week.

As he pulled himself up his left side flared and he hissed involuntarily in pain. Much to his annoyance this caught Potter's attention and within seconds he'd been helped into a sitting position, legs resting over the side of the bed as he caught his breath.

'Did you need a hand sir?' Potter asked.

The blasted boy was like an insistent House Elf he thought to himself.

'I do not need your help Potter,' he ground out, hoping the boy would get the message.

'I broke my arm once sir,' the boy said cheerfully. 'Trust me, getting shirts on is a right pain in the...' he trailed off suddenly, seeming to recall just who it was he was talking to.

Snape raised an eyebrow at that, studying the boy carefully. Unfortunately Potter was right. It was going to be a right pain in the arse getting his shirt on and dealing with the bandages. Well, if the boy was offering he might as well take him up on it, he thought.

'Indeed. Well Potter, if you want to make yourself useful, you can start by getting this sling off.'

'Sure,' Potter said nonchalantly.

He undid the sling with ease and Snape examined the bandages beneath. They were still clear which meant the Dittany had held, he noted. He got Potter to remove the sticking charm and bandages, before examining the ugly scar that ran from his collarbone to his forearm. The tissue was deeply bruised which meant he had yet to heal the underlying damage. He grabbed his wand from the bedside table and performed the counter-curse for _Sectumsempra_.

Harry watched in awe as Snape ran his wand along the ugly red scar, seemingly singing softly under his breath. The first few times, nothing much seemed to happen but as Snape continued to trace his wand over the wound Harry noticed that the bruising began to ease. It took a few more passes but eventually Snape was left with just the scar. It was less inflamed and not as jagged as it had been but still just as long.

'Can't you get rid of that?' he asked quietly, nodding towards the scar.

Snape looked up at the question and Harry noticed he appeared weary again.

'No,' Snape said simply. 'I left it for too long.'

Quite ironic really, he thought to himself, scarred by my own curse. He had no idea what he'd been thinking when he'd shown the Dark Lord that curse, but it had definitely come back to bite him now. He allowed himself to smirk at that thought and noticed Potter was watching him curiously, his gaze focused on Snape's useless right arm.

'Fetch me a shirt from the closet if you will Potter,'

The faster he got dressed, the faster he could get rid of the boy. He quickly pulled off the flannel shirt that was covering his left shoulder. He definitely didn't recall putting that shirt on but wasn't about to ask Potter about it. Potter returned with a simple dark green button down shirt. He held the left sleeve out for Snape and scowling he pulled it on. The right side proved much more difficult and he ended up just glaring at Potter as the boy carefully moved his arm into the sleeve.

'Will you get the feeling back in your arm sir?' Potter asked as he hurriedly did the buttons.

Snape smirked at that, it seemed Potter was regretting his decision to volunteer.

'Yes,' he replied tersely.

'Good,' Potter replied relieved. 'Well, I'm going to get breakfast sir, I'll see you downstairs.'

With that the boy bolted for the door, Snape's voice stopped him though.

'Thank you Potter...for saving my life,' he said quietly.

The words came without thought and Snape was nearly as stunned as Potter, who stood stock still in the doorway. Potter turned towards him slowly. To Snape's surprise there was no arrogance or pride in his expression, the boy simply looked genuinely appreciative of Snape's gratitude.

'No problem sir,' he said quietly.

With that he smiled and turned, leaving a stunned Snape behind to make his own slow way downstairs.

XXXX

It was approaching midnight on Thursday evening as Snape sat in the sitting room, paging clumsily with his left hand through a book. The fire flared to life but Snape did not look up, he had been expecting the call.

Albus Dumbledore emerged from the fireplace, looking around him as he did so. He caught sight of Snape immediately, his eyes hardening as he noted the sling and useless right arm. His eyes narrowed further as he noticed the slight uncontrollable tremor in Snape's left hand.

'What happened, Severus?' he asked seriously.

Snape indicated that he should sit and he did so hurriedly before fixing Snape with a worried gaze. He waited patiently for Snape to explain, allowing him time to order his thoughts. Knowing Severus he would summarise the events as succinctly as possible – without interruption. So Albus settled himself comfortably and waited.

'I was summoned on Monday evening. The Dark Lord was curious as to why I had not informed him that I was taking leave. He accepted my explanations but we had yet to consolidate memories. He believed that I had been slack in my duties to you. As such he presented me with a reason,' Snape gestured at his right arm with a bemused smirk which didn't reach his eyes, 'in case you were to wonder why I had done so little work following corrupt Ministry officials. I made the mistake of apparating in a confused state of mind and managed to Splinch the wound, damaging it further. As such when I arrived home procuring a nerve regenerating potion was a low priority. I was unable to start the treatment within the first twelve hours, hence why I have yet to regain the use of my arm.' Snape explained in a neutral tone.

Albus listened intently. Severus was definitely being light on details but he understood that the 'confused state of mind' referred to having suffered the Cruciatus. It must have been bad to make him apparate without healing his arm first, Dumbledore thought worriedly. Severus was in the habit of providing only the necessities and never elaborated if asked. Albus had thus taken to reading between the lines during Snape's reports. He was curious though as to why it had taken Severus over twelve hours to take the nerve regenerating potion. A thought suddenly occurred to him.

'And what of Harry, Severus?' he asked carefully.

He watched Severus' eyes narrow and knew he would not be getting the complete story from him.

'What of him? The boy has essentially been on holidays for the last few days. Unfortunately I had to resort to his abysmal Potion skills for the nerve regenerating potion but that is all he has been occupied with lately.'

'Did he see you when you arrived home, Severus?' he asked deliberately.

Severus averted his gaze, returning it to the book on his lap. In doing so he missed the knowing twinkle that entered Albus' eye. Curious, Albus thought to himself, it seems Harry has made quite an impression on Severus. He would perhaps have to ask Harry sometime as to what had happened for he knew Severus would not answer him now. Bringing his thoughts back on track he turned instead to the reason for his visit.

'I am sorry that I could not consolidate the memories with you sooner Severus,' he said solemnly. He waited for a response from Severus. Receiving only a stiff nod he continued on. 'That was the reason I called tonight. I am only too sorry that it appears I have arrived too late. Nevertheless I am here now and I suggest we consolidate enough that Voldemort will not feel the need to question you so closely again.'

'As you wish, Headmaster,' Snape sighed.

Dumbledore frowned slightly at that before turning his attention to the task at hand.

It was almost an hour later that a weary Snape ascended the stairs and entered his own room. He collapsed onto his bed and relaxed immediately into the comforting embrace of deep sleep.

XXXX

**A/N:** I hope you all didn't have to wait too long on that cliff-hanger. Thanks to those who continue to review each chapter it's great to know that you're following the story and I love to hear your thoughts. Let me know what you think of this chapter - as always I'm interested in improving my work so it's great to know what the readers are thinking :) Anyway hope you all enjoyed. Unitl next time!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 _27th-29th April 1996 (Monday Evening)_

Snape used his left hand awkwardly as he ate his soup. It was surprisingly good considering Potter had cooked it. Whilst he had been incapacitated it seemed Potter had taken to preparing meals and had yet to relinquish the position to Snape. To say the least Snape had been very surprised that a fifteen year old boy knew anything about cooking, he had his suspicions though.

'When did you learn to cook Potter?' he asked nonchalantly.

'Awhile ago,' Potter replied quietly. It seemed that was all the boy was going to say and Snape was just about to interrupt when he continued without encouragement. 'I've been able to cook since I was able to stand. One of the only useful things the Dursleys ever taught me' he trailed off.

'Oh yes, and why exactly did they feel the need to 'teach you to cook', Potter?' Snape drawled sarcastically.

The boy was infuriating; when had Potter begun to trust him so easily? That was what really bothered Snape, the ease with which Potter was opening up to him. He was pleased to note though that Potter was looking more uneasy in light of Snape's sarcastic comment.

'Look, I only cooked when Aunt Petunia was tired out or it was someone's birthday or something. It's no big deal,' the teen replied defiantly.

Snape just studied him quietly. The boy needed to start accepting what had happened to him.

'You need to stop justifying their behaviour Potter.'

He stood, leaving for the sitting room. As he reached the doorway he stopped, his back to Potter. 'You'll never be able to move on otherwise,' he said quietly.

With that he left, but he knew Potter had heard him; he just hoped the boy had the sense to realise the truth. The consequences of not moving on and accepting that he had been abused were obvious. All Potter had to do was look at him.

XXXX

Harry stood, taking the bowls with him to wash up; Snape's words ringing in his ears. He tried to ignore them but the sincerity with which Snape had spoken made it impossible. Snape wasn't just telling him because it was his duty as a teacher. No, the man had actually been warning him, as though he was concerned for Harry's wellbeing. It was all well and good for Snape to tell him that but just how was he supposed to sort out his problems? Who exactly did Snape expect him to talk to? It wasn't as though Snape was volunteering to help him out, he thought bitterly. The man had his own issues to deal with – that much was clear. Besides, Harry was fairly sure he was coping far better than Snape ever had. For starters, he didn't perpetually scowl. A snort of laughter escaped at that thought but Harry quickly sobered. He knew he needed to talk to someone and the only person he could talk to was Snape. If that meant he had to get Snape to deal with his own problems before he helped Harry – well he was prepared to do that. After all who else was there in his life? With that thought he left the kitchen for his memory session.

XXXX

Snape sat brooding in his armchair, waiting impatiently for Potter. Since his injury, Potter had become withdrawn and wary of Snape. It was as though the boy expected him to lash out at him for something. He'd even caught the boy eyeing him apologetically. Potter was obviously dwelling on something, and he was determined to find out this evening. The almost argument he'd just had with the boy had put him in a foul mood. As such, he was no longer interested in tip toeing around the boy. The worst of it was that he wasn't angry at Potter. He was angry at himself for how he was handling Potter. The boy needed help and Snape was the only available adult for the boy to talk to. The problem was he knew he couldn't deal with Potter's issues. As per usual Albus was asking too much of him. Except Albus doesn't even realise he thought bitterly. He groaned and put his head in his hands just as Potter walked into the room.

'Potter,' he growled, 'you're late.'

The boy looked alarmed for a second before carefully concealing the look and taking a seat on the sofa. He gestured for the boy to face him before pulling out his wand. This time he could not mistake the look of utter fear Potter sent him. He paused in shock and did not see Potter grip his wand and slowly bring it to bear against him.

'_Legilimens!_'

'_Protego!_' Potter cried simultaneously.

Snape had barely touched the surface of Potter's thoughts when he was ripped from them. Suddenly he was assaulted with memories. A young dark haired boy crouched in a dark corner, nursing a multitude of injuries, traitorous tears cascading down his cheek; an older version of the dark haired boy being punched in the stomach by a familiar messy haired boy, surrounded by his gang; a fifteen year old Snape begging for forgiveness from Lily Evans outside Gryffindor Tower. With sudden horror Snape realised that Potter had accessed his memories. With a strangled cry of fury he threw the boy from his mind.

Snape was livid. His face was white with fury, his mouth curled in a snarl. He was breathing heavily as he approached the teenager who had been thrown to the floor. The boy stared up at him fearfully but he was also looking at Snape knowingly. As though what he had just witnessed had confirmed something for him. Snape grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and pulled him up, depositing him unceremoniously back on the couch. He turned sharply and sat himself in the armchair staring at the boy who was fidgeting uncomfortably on the sofa.

He knew he needed to calm down before he talked to Potter. The last time he'd let his temper get out of hand he'd injured Potter and landed himself in this mess. He groaned with frustration, letting his head fall into his hands in a rare show of vulnerability. He was angry that he'd let the memories play, simply because for a moment he'd thought it had been Potter's childhood. And that thought shook him to his core. Snape had finally realised just how similar he and Potter really were. He'd let the memories play because he had wanted Potter to see his abuse for what it was. Admittedly he should have known by the second memory that they weren't Potter's memories. He'd allowed his preconceptions to let him think that the Harry Potter he knew now would ever have been capable of assaulting another student four on one. But it had been the final memory which had driven it home to him. Potter had no memories of Lily Evans.

That was the worst of it. The fact that Potter had just accessed memories he'd gone to great lengths to hide from him in their occlumency lessons. And Snape didn't know what he'd do if Potter realised what he'd seen. Realised what Lily had meant to him. He cursed silently to himself for a few moments. Just what was Potter playing at? He needed to find out why Potter had raised his wand to him. Without taking his head out of his hands he addressed Potter in an emotionless voice.

'I don't recall instructing you to use a shield charm Potter.'

Harry who had been deep in thought looked up to see Snape was still sitting with his head in his hands. It seemed he had calmed down considerably, which surprised Harry. He'd thought for sure that Snape was going to fly off the handle at him. For a second he'd thought the man had been going to hit him, he'd been that angry. He couldn't help but think about what he'd seen though. He'd realised immediately that he'd broken into Snape's memories somehow. Harry had suspected that Snape had been abused but it was startling to realise how severe it had been. He'd only seen one memory but he suspected Snape had numerous. He'd also realised exactly why Snape hated his father. He could make no excuses either, for the boy had undeniably been James Potter. The resemblance had been uncanny. The memory that had really touched Harry though was the final one. There was something about the red-headed girl. He knew without a doubt that he knew who she was. He just couldn't remember. Snape's impatient voice broke in on Harry's thought train.

'Is there a reason you used a shield charm Potter?' he growled.

Harry realised he'd better answer the man while he was still relatively calm.

'I wasn't thinking...I forgot you used _Legilimens_ in these sessions sir. I just saw you raise your wand and I panicked. I thought you were trying to curse me...' he trailed off lamely.

Thinking back on it, it had been pretty stupid to think Snape was trying to harm him. He'd been going over his memories of the night Snape got hurt though and he was convinced Snape was going to find out that it had been him, Harry, who had almost killed him. He looked bashfully up at Snape to find the man was looking at him in confusion.

'What in Merlin's name gave you the idea that I wanted to curse you, you stupid boy?' Snape asked exasperatedly.

Potter scowled at the use of the term 'boy' but Snape was much more interested in why Potter had defended himself.

'I told you...I wasn't thinking,' the boy replied petulantly.

Snape could tell he was lying. He had a feeling that whatever Potter had been dwelling on for the last few days was the reason behind his sudden defence. Unwilling to waste his time endlessly questioning the boy he decided to take the direct approach.

'Very well Potter, I'll take that,' he pocketed the boy's wand casually before turning and raising his wand again. '_Legilimens!_'

He was within Potter's thoughts in seconds and this time he met no resistance. He sifted through Potter's surface thoughts rapidly, searching for anything that could explain Potter's behaviour. His attention was caught by a memory Potter had been dwelling on. He watched with morbid curiosity his own meeting with the Dark Lord. Potter had seen everything he realised, and suddenly the boy's behaviour made sense. He withdrew from Potter's mind and studied the boy before him.

'Tell me Potter, how long have you been under the impression that you were being possessed by the Dark Lord?' he drawled.

The boy simply shrugged, staring determinedly out the window his gaze fixed on something Snape could not see. Snape sighed in exasperation, Potter was impossible to deal with.

'Is this why you apologised to me the other night?'

Potter's eyes flicked back to him quickly, judging his expression before quickly nodding and returning his gaze to the window.

'Am I to understand it is also the reason behind your behaviour for the last few days and your justification for raising your wand against me?' he asked sarcastically, smirking at Potter.

The boy looked startled but seemed to realise that Snape had just made a joke, relieving the tension in the room.

'Sorry about that sir. I thought once you realised it was me who'd injured you that you'd be angry.' Potter seemed to realise how lame his excuse sounded as he began nervously fiddling with a thread on the couch.

Snape studied the boy closely. It was obvious now that Potter was under the delusion that he'd somehow been responsible for his injuries, a misunderstanding Snape was determined to correct.

'Listen closely Potter,' he began, 'as you seem to be labouring under a serious misapprehension. Only someone as arrogant as you Potter could ever believe that they were capable of this. Tell me boy, have you thought this through at all? Exactly how did you manage to get from here to where I was?' He paused noting that Potter was now flushing in embarrassment. Clearly the idiot had not thought things through, Snape thought haughtily. He continued before Potter could interrupt, his tone becoming more sarcastic as he warmed to the topic.

'Did you not think that I would have acknowledged your presence, if in fact you had been there? But of course in your stupidity you assumed that everything revolves around you.'

Harry sat quietly on the couch, stunned by Snape's words. How could he have been so stupid as to not realise. Snape's words triggered a memory though and he recalled a similar discussion with Ginny. Harry felt relief flood him at the memory of Ginny's words. He wasn't being possessed by Voldemort. Instead he was somehow gaining access to his mind. The tension from the last few days eased as he realised that he hadn't injured Snape. It was one less thing to feel guilty about, he supposed pessimistically.

'You were not there Potter. You would be incapable of performing any of those curses and you are not being possessed by the Dark Lord.' Snape said softly, speaking sincerely.

Snape's voice cut in smoothly, breaking Harry out of his thoughts. The man had been studying him closely he noted. He was surprised at the sincerity in the man's tone and if he wasn't mistaken Snape had been looking at him with something akin to concern. Harry nodded slowly in acceptance and then spoke without thinking.

'I understand... I know I wasn't responsible for this.' He paused and because he'd been thinking on it before it slipped out. 'It's not what I feel guilty about.'

It was barely a whisper but Snape heard him, stiffening slightly in response. Snape was silent for a long time considering Potter's words. The last few weeks he'd wanted Potter to leave; to take his problems and walk away. Now he wasn't so sure that he could so easily ignore Potter's needs and so he didn't let the comment pass.

'You've spent the last few days feeling guilty because you thought you were responsible for my _predicament_, despite the obvious reasons as to why you could not be. I am inclined to believe that your remaining 'guilt' is for similarly implausible reasons,' Snape said incredulously.

He was prepared to listen to the boy but that did not mean he would mollycoddle the boy he thought smugly. He was almost relieved to note that the usual Potter defiance had returned and that the boy was now staring at Snape, a cold fury glinting in his eyes. Potter did not let his rage master him though, Snape noted with approval. The boy instead took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them again he fixed Snape with his gaze, the fury having been replaced with a lifetime of weariness, before addressing Snape.

'You are...mistaken sir,' he began slowly. 'I believe it is _you_ who is labouring under the misapprehension. Do you know what I felt during that vision? I felt only amusement and delight. I wanted nothing more than to break your will. You infuriated me when you would not yield to the Cruciatus. So yes, yes I felt guilty for what I'd felt and for what I'd done. Just as I felt guilty the night Mr Weasley was attacked. It was _my _fangs that tore into him...or that was how it felt. Have you ever experienced that sir?' he asked desperately. He did not wait to hear Snape's answer though, continuing on, unable to hold back the feelings. 'But that isn't the worst of it. I understand that I was not responsible for those attacks but nothing can change that _I_ was responsible for Cedric's death.'

He paused then, his voice having reached an angry crescendo, his breathing heavy with grief. The immense guilt he felt coloured his tone but Snape was too astounded by his revelations to interrupt him.

Snape did not understand Harry Potter. How could this boy possibly be the same defiant, arrogant and impertinent boy he had taught for the last five years? He was listening to a fifteen year old boy describe something that no child should ever have experienced. He couldn't help but think though that Potter had got it right. He _was_ labouring under a misapprehension. He had just ridiculed the boy's admission that he felt guilty, believing that the boy was simply exaggerating. After all Snape was no stranger to guilt; he had spent the last fifteen years allowing guilt to rule his life.

Potter truly did feel guilty and Snape genuinely could not fault him for feeling guilt, as strange as he found the concept. He knew that the boy would never experience pleasure from inflicting pain and so to have felt such feelings whilst seemingly inflicting pain...well his feelings of guilt were understandable, Snape thought to himself. For the first time ever, Snape considered that perhaps he truly had allowed his prejudice to cloud his judgement of Harry Potter. He let that thought sink in and the implications of his realisation scared him. Had he truly done this boy such a grievous wrong? The boy was speaking again though, his voice strained and his eyes focused on something only he could see, obviously reliving a memory Snape realised.

'We were both racing for the cup, Cedric was ahead of me, and he was going to get there first. He was so focused that he didn't see the Acromantula coming; I called out to him in warning. We both fought it but I was caught off guard; it nearly ripped my leg off. I could barely stand, let alone run and Cedric knew that. He wouldn't take the Cup though. I told him to take it. He'd won fair and square but he wouldn't. He was prepared to give it all up. He wanted me to take the Cup...and I almost did. I wish now that I had... I convinced him to take the cup with me. We touched it together...and then we were gone. I thought it was still part of the task...I should have realised...and then Wormtail was there and Cedric was dead. I could see him...the whole time he was just there...lying dead not twenty foot from me.'

Snape made a sudden movement, as though he were going to reach out to Harry but seemed to stop himself. Harry was oblivious to it, still caught up in the memory replaying before his eyes.

'I didn't know what to do,' his voice was cracking, as he haltingly continued. 'I knew I was going to die...and that didn't bother me. I just wanted it to be over...I was alone...I've never been more afraid in my life. He wanted to duel but I wasn't going to play his games...I wouldn't beg before him. Our wands connected and Cedric just appeared...I knew he was lying dead on the ground but it seemed so real. He wasn't a ghost...he was more than a ghost and he spoke to me. They all did...I spoke to my parents...' he smiled wistfully at the remembrance of his parents. 'They told me what to do...and right before I broke the connection Cedric...Cedric, he asked me to bring his body back...' his voice trailed off as he paused, realising the memory was over. He looked directly at Snape, his eyes filled with grief and guilt.

'I feel guilty because I told him to take the cup with me...I told him,' his voice breaking.

He was overcome with grief and exhaustion; he wanted nothing more than to forget it all. The defiance and energy had left him and Snape watched as the boy dropped his head into his hands. For some inexplicable reason Snape rose from the couch and approached the boy. He stopped in front of Potter but the boy did not stir. He crouched so that he was level with the boy. He was only going to say this once and he wanted to make sure the boy understood he thought, trying to reassure himself as to why he was essentially comforting Potter. He would deny it if anyone ever asked but he knew the boy was still focusing on his thoughts and so he reached out and grasped Potter by the shoulder; grounding the boy so that he would listen. If Potter felt the contact he did not respond openly but Snape heard the boy's breath hitch slightly, so he knew he had Potter's attention.

'You are not to blame for Diggory's death Potter,' he began calmly. 'The blame lies solely with Wormtail and the Dark Lord. You would be wise to remember that. You did not cast the curse and you did not know the Cup was a Portkey. Diggory was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.' He paused considering his next words. 'Don't let his death have been in vain Potter. If you allow yourself to become consumed by grief and guilt it will ruin you.'

He gave Potter's shoulder a tight squeeze before standing up and addressing the boy as though he were in class.

'Now Potter, I trust I will not have to remind you of that again?'

The boy raised his head from his hands and Snape was relieved to note that his eyes were dry. He gazed steadily at Snape before nodding his head sharply in the affirmative. As Snape turned to leave the room he noticed Potter was smiling at him. It wasn't a happy smile rather a bemused smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. As he reached the door, Potter's voice stopped him.

'Thank you sir,' he said genially.

Snape remained stationary for a moment longer; undoubtedly he would need to discuss the issues further with Potter but it seemed that for now the boy truly appreciated his presence.

XXXX

Later that night Snape would wonder what it was that made him do it. Perhaps it had been because the boy had been broken or perhaps it was simply because the boy had never appeared so vulnerable. In years he would come to realise that his actions had been the turning point in their relationship.

XXXX

**A/N:** Meant to have this out a few days ago but stuff got in the way. The chapter is a bit shorter than the previous few but I stumbled across the ending earlier than I'd expected. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, it's very encouraging :) As always I'd be interested to hear your thoughts! Until next time...


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 _30th April - 3rd May 1996_

Harry had slept fitfully, his thoughts too tumultuous to allow rest. He now stood staring steadfastly out the window in his room, watching the sunrise, deep in thought. It had not been easy talking to Snape; his general demeanour did not encourage openness. Yet, and this had puzzled Harry endlessly, the man had listened, advised and even comforted him. It was the first time Harry could recall that an adult had actually supported him.

He knew he still felt the guilt, and that the grief would never completely leave him, but Snape's words had reassured him and he thought perhaps now he could finally accept that he was not responsible. It was conceivably the greatest step he could take towards healing the guilt. He knew though that only passage of time would allow him to heal completely. He felt great relief however, at finally having expressed his fears and felt more light-hearted than he ever had. It was as though a great darkness had been lifted from his senses, as though he had been staring through a blindfold for the past few months.

His stomach grumbled, bringing him back to the present. He yawned, stretching as he did so, catching sight of his wristwatch. It was still early, almost five, but he'd heard Snape moving about before – clearly he was an early riser. The man must be something of an insomniac he thought idly; after all he always retired well after Harry and rose well before him. Not for the first time he found himself wondering about Snape's past and deemed to question the man if the opportunity arose.

He stood and wandered over to his trunk. He tossed his Invisibility Cloak onto his bed – he'd discovered that on his first night, much to his own amazement – in search of clothing. He had yet to establish whether Snape had a washing machine or some other means for washing. As such he'd taken to wearing clothes for two or three days, applying freshening charms as needed. Though freshening charms were only good for so long he'd found out which meant he was definitely going to need to wash his clothes properly and soon.

His search yielded a shirt and some jeans. Unfortunately they were possibly the worst shirt and jeans he could pair together. They had both belonged to Dudley and were in a state of disrepair far beyond that of his other clothing. The shirt was a worn flannel, thinning around the collar and the elbows. The cuffs were frayed and there were several holes, the most prominent of which was where the front pocket had been. Dudley had torn it off in a scuffle with Harry. The colours were faded but the worst of it was that it was at least five sizes too big for Harry.

Groaning in frustration at the state of his clothes, he pulled a dirty gray t-shirt on before donning the flannel, in an attempt to hide the holes. He rolled the sleeves up several times, but it was obvious the shirt was far too big for him. The jeans were just as frayed and well worn as the shirt, with deep grass stains on the knees. He pulled the jeans on hastily and only then realised just how much he'd grown since last he'd worn them. They were at least four inches too short but the waist was still at least five times Harry's size. It looked ludicrous but nothing could be done about it, so he instead focused on using his belt to ensure the jeans stayed in place.

As he entered the dining room he wasn't surprised to find that Snape had already started breakfast. The man was perusing the _Daily Prophet_, a bowl of porridge to one side. He looked up as Harry entered, raising an eyebrow as he took in Harry's clothes.

'What in Merlin's name are you wearing Potter,' he asked incredulously, 'or has it become fashionable to wear clothing five sizes too big?'

Harry flushed in humiliation. It was bad enough that he had to _wear_ the clothes, let alone deal with Snape's snide remarks.

'No, it's not the current fashion, and they're some of Dudley's clothes' he said curtly as he sat down, as though that explained everything. He pulled his bowl of porridge towards him, scowling at it, and tried to ignore Snape.

'Why aren't you wearing your own clothes Potter?' Snape asked confusedly.

Harry looked up at that and realised that Snape seemed genuinely confused as to why Harry was wearing Dudley's hand-me-downs.

'These are my own clothes,' he said bluntly, looking at Snape as though he were stupid.

Snape raised his eyebrow in response. He had discarded his newspaper and his attention was now solely focused on Harry. The man wore a closed but serious expression as he addressed Harry.

'No, you said they were 'Dudley's clothes',' he said slowly, as though he were talking to a two-year old.

Snape's tone irritated Harry and he sighed exasperatedly before correcting his explanation.

'They _are_ Dudley's clothes. They're his old clothes but they belong to me now!' Harry paused looking at Snape, expecting to see comprehension but the man's expression was still oddly blank. Confused by Snape's inability to understand, given the man's normally sharp intellect he continued on.

'Look I know they're not the best ones, but they're the cleanest I've got at the moment. I meant to ask you about washing clothes but it slipped my mind, what with your...accident and stuff,' he trailed off. Snape was studying him thoughtfully, an odd look in his eyes that Harry couldn't decipher.

'So your own clothes are dirty?' Snape asked pointedly.

'Yeah, my other clothes are dirty,' Harry replied carefully, unsure of what Snape was getting at.

'You misunderstood me Potter,' Snape said shrewdly. 'I was asking about your own clothes; clothes that were bought specifically to fit you.'

'What do you think, sir?' Harry began scathingly. He wasn't sure why Snape was so interested but his questions served only to humiliate Harry further. 'The Dursleys never spent a penny on me if they could help it. I was a burden to them, as they often reminded me. I could hardly expect them to pay for my clothing. Money was tight and they never expected to have two children. So no, the only clothes I own that fit me properly are my school uniforms and that's only because I bought them myself.'

Harry turned back to his porridge, determined to ignore Snape, who sat quietly studying him. Potter's clothing reminded him painfully of his own atrocious clothing as a child. He well remembered the humiliation he had felt; it was not something he would wish upon anyone. Even Potter, he thought to himself. He realised belatedly that his own questioning had inadvertently humiliated the boy further and he sought to rectify Potter's discomfit.

'The laundry is down the hall. I wash everything on Tuesday,' Snape said calmly. 'If you need something washed just make sure it is in the laundry by Tuesday morning and I'll deal with it.' He paused before continuing on in his usual classroom tone. 'Oh and Potter, if you miss the deadline you'll have to wait until the next week. I will however make an exception for you today,' he finished stoically.

With that Snape turned back to his paper but Harry recognised his words for what they were; a peace offering. His anger dissipated with the realisation that Snape had not intentionally been humiliating him and he shot the Professor a grateful smile.

Snape caught sight of the boy grinning stupidly at him. He pointedly ignored Potter, instead shifting his paper so he could no longer see him. Potter's smile had unsettled him. He appreciated that the boy was acting humbly – much to his own surprise – but he was reluctant to acknowledge the boy's gratitude. The boy should not be grateful for small courtesies. Not for the first time he found himself cursing the poor guardianship of the Dursleys. Potter was obviously not aware that the Dursleys had been provided with a trust fund to cover the costs of raising a child and Snape wasn't about to inform him. Not yet at least; perhaps once Potter was more accustomed to talking with him, he thought.

He eyed the boy surreptitiously over his paper, taking in the full extent of the boy's clothing. They weren't much better than rags he noted, appalled. He was surprised that Petunia had let her nephew be seen in public dressed as he was. Her jealously towards Lily must have increased with age, he thought bitterly. He would definitely need to have a _chat_ with Petunia. He observed that the boy's front pocket had been ripped off – probably fighting, he thought distastefully. After all James Potter was his father.

'What happened to your front pocket Potter?' he asked

Harry fingered the pocket thoughtfully before looking up at Snape, with a twisted smile.

'Dudley and his mates ripped it off. One of the few times they ever caught me during 'Harry Hunting'.'

Merlin, help me Snape thought to himself. Was nothing _ever_ simple with Potter! He'd suspected it had occurred during a brawl but what he hadn't expected was for Potter to have been the victim. It sounded uncomfortably like the treatment he had suffered at the hands of the Marauders, he realised uneasily.

'What exactly is 'Harry Hunting'' he asked sourly.

'Something Dudley and his group of friends made up in primary school,' Harry began slowly. 'It didn't take me long to learn to avoid them but it cost me any chance of making friends. Dudley and his gang would threaten anybody who got too close to me,' He paused, but Snape made no move to interrupt. In fact the man motioned for Harry to continue with a small but stiff nod of his head.

'I'm a lot smaller and much faster than Dudley – his weight slowed him down. Anyway it was only really a problem if they somehow cornered me. That's how I lost this shirt pocket. Dudley ripped it off as he was attempting to 'teach me a lesson,' Harry finished sourly.

'So your cousin physically beat you?' Snape asked gravely.

'Hey, he only got the better of me because he had three other mates to hold me down. If it'd been one on one there's no way he'd ever have landed a punch!' Harry exclaimed, outraged at Snape's insinuation.

Snape simply ignored Harry's indignant anger before continuing on in a more serious tone.

'And what of your Aunt and Uncle, were they aware of this?'

Harry stared at Snape incredulously before letting out a hollow, mirthless laugh. The laugh unsettled Snape – it did not suit the boy at all. Harry sobered quickly before considering Snape with a critical gaze.

'You once asked me if my Uncle ever beat me,' he began in an emotionless voice. Snape stiffened slightly at that, as though Harry had said something unexpected. 'I told you truthfully that he didn't. He didn't need to. They had Dudley for that. So in answer to your question sir: yes, they were aware and in fact they encouraged the behaviour.'

Harry again returned his attention to his breakfast and Snape made no move to question him further. In fact the Professor seemed to be deep in thought and several minutes passed in complete silence. Harry finished up his meal and grabbed both his and Snape's plates to wash up. As he came back into the dining room, Snape was still seated and deep in thought. He seemed relatively calm to Harry, although there was an odd expression on his face – as though he were considering something preposterous. Taking his chance, Harry re-seated himself, determined to get Snape to talk.

'Did you grow up here sir?' he asked, careful to keep his voice respectful.

Snape started suddenly, drawn from his thoughts. He had been so immersed in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed Potter finish and clear the table. Berating himself for his lack of attention to his surroundings he considered Potter's question. He scowled darkly at the boy's probing question but he was curious about Potter's sudden line of questioning and so he answered, albeit reluctantly.

'Yes,' he stated simply, returning to his _Daily Prophet _in the hope that Potter would take the hint and leave.

The boy however remained stubbornly seated and seemed to be content to question Snape further.

'The room I'm staying in...was that your room sir?' Harry asked hesitantly.

Snape's grip on the paper tightened slightly, his eyes glazing over as though he was remembering something. Harry had been fairly certain the room had belonged to Snape as a boy but the man's reaction confirmed it, even without him stating it verbally. The thought saddened Harry somewhat as the room truly was dismal for a child to have grown up in. It was worse to know though that Snape had grown up with his parents. The two people who were supposed to love him unconditionally, but clearly hadn't. The house should have been a happy one; but misery and neglect lay like a thick cloud over everything. To his surprise Snape answered him, although it seemed as though he were speaking more to himself than to Harry.

'Yes...that was my room.'

Harry knew it would be impertinent to continue asking questions but his curiosity was piqued and he was honestly surprised he'd managed to get Snape to talk at all. He waited a few moments; Snape still seemed to be stuck in his memories, before raising another question.

'What happened to your parents?' he asked hesitantly.

Snape's reaction was immediate. The glazed look left his eyes to be replaced by one of fury and for the briefest of seconds unknowable hurt crossed the Professor's face. Harry knew instantly he'd gone too far and Snape's response left him in no doubt.

'That is none of your concern, _boy_,' he spat nastily at Harry.

Harry flinched in shock. It was as though he were now sitting opposite Uncle Vernon. He shook his head roughly to dislodge the image of Vernon. Snape's sneering face came back into view and Harry breathed deeply, trying to calm his racing heart. The sneer on Snape's face had disappeared, replaced by one of guarded confusion.

'Sorry,' Harry mumbled quickly, 'you reminded me of my Uncle for a second.'

'And exactly how did I do that?' Snape asked coldly.

It seemed he did not appreciate being likened to Vernon Dursley. Harry stared at him quietly, the seconds dragging by like minutes. Snape became impatient, and Harry knew that Snape would have to have an answer – of some form.

'Why do you call me Potter?' he asked seriously; seemingly having changed the subject.

Snape was thrown momentarily before replying dryly.

'That is your name, is it not?'

Harry frowned; Snape was clearly missing his point.

'No, it's my last name. I understand that you're one of my Professors sir, but we're not at Hogwarts. We don't even interact like a student and teacher. Still I've been respectful towards you this entire time sir, yet you don't even have the decency to use my name. And do you know why that bothers me sir? It bothers me because even when I'm at home my relatives call me either boy or Potter. I can't recall them ever having willingly called me Harry.' He paused surveying Snape, before standing to leave. 'I just thought you were different,' he finished lamely.

With that he excused himself, leaving a dumbfounded Snape seated at the table.

XXXX

Potter's words astounded him. The boy had left quickly but his last words had affected Snape more than he would have liked to admit. He had meant on numerous occasions to call Potter out on his aversion to the term 'boy'. It seemed though that Potter had done it for him. He cringed at the remembrance of Potter flinching in shock at his earlier words. In fact Potter likening him to Vernon Dursley did not seem so unreasonable now, much to his own disgust. Potter was also right about their relationship, he thought sullenly. It had changed and in retrospect it had been foolish of him to believe that they could maintain a student/teacher relationship whilst living in such close confines. He wasn't sure what their relationship was now but to his own horror he knew it was closer than a student/teacher. After all, how many students had witnessed his Death Eater activities and then gone on to save his life? And if he really thought about it, if he forgot just who Harry Potter's father was, then at times he found himself getting along with the teenager. If he'd been the sentimental type Snape may even have allowed himself to think that he'd become quite fond of having the boy around. It almost made residing in Spinner's End bearable.

He would make a conscious effort to not call Potter 'boy' but that was all he was willing to consider at present. There was still far too much bad blood between them – particularly on Snape's side. Potter's ignorance seemed to have allowed him to turn over a clean sheet.

His thoughts returned to the starting point of their conversation and again he found himself dwelling on Potter's wardrobe – or lack thereof. As he stood to continue on with the day's work the absurd idea he'd been considering during Potter's explanations came back to him; and to his amazement he found himself acting on it.

XXXX

The next few days passed in a blur for Harry as he continued to study hard. Snape begrudgingly informed him on Thursday that he was overall at the level of a third year student now although he was well and truly ready for his OWL in Defence Against the Dark Arts. He struggled most with Charms and Transfiguration which Snape seemed to find incredibly ironic. Much to Harry's disappointment he still felt as though he was rather rubbish at Potions. Although Snape seemed unable to find much to criticise, for which he was grateful. He'd decided early on that he was going to pay much more attention to his Potions work than he felt he ever had before. He found the subject enjoyable even if Snape was still a snarky git about it at times.

The memory sessions still continued and Harry had begun to recall more and more after every session. He still had nightmares occasionally but they were less frequent now. Snape had taken to prompting him over breakfast to talk about the nightmares. The man didn't comment much but Harry appreciated that he took the time to listen. Harry was slowly reducing the dose of Dreamless Sleep also. Most nights he got through without too much trouble. On two occasions he had woken screaming and disorientated from a visit to the graveyard. He'd been perplexed that on both those occasions he'd been shaken awake by a stoic Snape who merely handed him a Dreamless Sleep before wordlessly exiting the room. Both times he'd apologised for waking the man the next morning only to have Snape tell him firmly from behind his paper:

'I was not asleep Potter and I did not go out of my way to help you.'

Unknown to Snape his statement only served to increase Harry's concern for Snape's own wellbeing. The second time Snape had helped him it had been almost three in the morning and Harry dimly recalled that Snape had still been wearing his day clothes, which had smelt vaguely of alcohol. He'd checked the liquor cabinet the next morning and found it empty. Either Snape had another source of Firewhiskey or Harry had been hallucinating. He was inclined to believe the former.

Despite their occasional disputes Harry had come to rather enjoy the Professor's company. They had settled into a comfortable routine and Harry felt as though the Professor had warmed to him slightly – as though he'd looked beyond his appearance. He hadn't told Snape yet, but he had begun to recall discussions he'd had with Ron and Hermione. Snape had definitely been a right bastard towards him at school he'd established. But living with Snape had made him realise that although there was something Snape hated inherently about Harry he didn't despise him completely. If Snape had despised him completely they'd never have gotten through the first week, Harry thought amusedly.

He'd noticed that in the past few days alone Snape seemed to have become particularly tolerant. He still called him Potter but there was less malice in the tone. The man had also seemed oddly withdrawn and thoughtful for the last few days. In fact he'd absentmindedly complimented Harry's spell-work yesterday evening. There was definitely something going on, Harry thought to himself as he made his way downstairs on Friday morning.

He knew immediately upon entering the kitchen that something was different this morning. Snape was sitting calmly at the table, drumming his fingers on the table, waiting impatiently for Harry. There was no sign of his newspaper, which was odd in itself; instead there was a vial of muddy-coloured potion that looked oddly familiar to Harry. It was Snape's clothing though that really surprised Harry. Instead of the dark coloured slacks and black button down Harry had become accustomed to; Snape was wearing light-coloured slacks, a checked shirt and a dark blue, well worn military jacket.

'We're going out Potter. I'll be back in five minutes, by which time I expect you to have finished your breakfast,' Snape explained briskly.

Harry ate his breakfast in record time before racing upstairs and grabbing a jacket. He stopped dead in the hallway when he came face to face with a stranger. The man was about Snape's height but that was the only characteristic they shared. His hair was sandy-blonde and kept short, whilst his complexion appeared much more healthy than Snape's. Blue eyes surrounded by laughter lines, met Harry's green eyes. The man didn't smile though; instead he had fixed Harry with a look that belonged to Snape. It was then that Harry noticed he was tucking a flask into an inner pocket of a blue military jacket – in fact he was wearing exactly what Snape had been wearing this morning.

'Professor?' Harry asked incredulously.

'Who else would I be Potter,' the man replied impatiently.

The stranger might not have had Snape's face but his mannerisms were certainly Snape's.

'Polyjuice Potion!' Harry exclaimed excitedly, 'that's what that vial was...I knew it looked familiar!'

'Really Potter, your deductive skills astound me,' Snape drawled, before fixing him with a steely gaze. 'Exactly when did you encounter Polyjuice Potion though?'

Harry was so caught up in examining Snape's appearance that he missed the menacing tone.

'Err...second year I think? I don't really remember, I just vaguely recall brewing some in one of the girl's bathrooms. I definitely remember the taste though. Whoever my person was, they tasted horrible.'

'Is that so Potter,' Snape began triumphantly. 'We'll have to discuss that more at length once your memory is completely intact.' He paused briefly before eyeing Harry critically. 'Now, look at me and hold still.'

Snape raised his wand and began muttering under his breath. When he finished he eyed Harry critically.

'That should do.'

He turned on his heel and marched towards the door.

'Wait,' Harry called out. 'What did you do?'

'I can hardly be seen in public with you Potter,' he began sarcastically. 'Even though we're going into a Muggle city it would be both our lives if we were seen by the wrong people. As you deduced before, I have taken Polyjuice Potion. Considering the nature of this trip it would be imprudent for you to also take Polyjuice. However, given how famous you are Potter, it would also be the height of foolishness to parade around town as yourself. As such, I have altered your appearance slightly so that you can pass as my _son_.' He spat the last word out distastefully; as though disgusted by the thought of even considering the words 'son' and 'Harry Potter' in the same sentence. Snape turned back to the door.

'Wait, can I see?' Harry asked hesitantly.

Snape scoffed impatiently before quickly conjuring a small mirror and passing it to Harry. Harry nearly dropped the mirror in shock. If he looked closely enough he could see himself in the reflection, but that was only because he knew his face so well he thought. His hair was now the same sandy-blonde as Snape's and sat neatly. His complexion was darker and he sported the same blue eyes as Snape. His scar was barely discernible; you'd have to be looking for it and standing right in front of him to see it. Harry smirked at his reflection – Snape had definitely done a good job, he could easily pass as Snape's son. That thought gave him an odd feeling of comfort, but he pushed it to the back of his mind as Snape impatiently gestured for Harry to move through the door. Harry wordlessly grabbed Snape's proffered arm and for the third time in his life experienced the unsettling feeling of being squished into a small space as they disapparated from Spinner's End.

XXXX

Harry stared around in wonder as Snape led him briskly through the early morning crowds. Snape seemed to know the area well and walked with purpose a few steps in front of Harry. The man was constantly on the alert for anything out of the ordinary. His right hand was thrust deep inside his pocket but Harry could tell that he was gripping his wand tightly. Snape caught sight of Harry as he scanned the surrounding civilians.

'Potter,' he growled quietly into Harry's ear, so as not to be overheard. 'You could not be doing more to draw attention to yourself. Now shut your mouth and keep your gaze straight ahead. Honestly, anyone would think you'd never been in a city centre before.'

Harry shut his mouth at that, scowling at Snape before stopping suddenly in anger. It took Snape several moments to realise Harry had stopped. He turned back, covering the distance between them within seconds; a dark scowl, which did not suit his current face, in place.

'Yeah? Well I haven't,' he snapped at the man, before asking the question that had consumed him all morning. 'Are you going to tell me why we're here?'

Snape regarded him detachedly as he allowed his anger to dissipate. Instead of answering Harry directly he placed his hand firmly on the boy's shoulder and steered him steadily in front of him.

'You'll see momentarily Potter, now stop causing a scene.' His tone was resigned as though he'd realised he'd spoken unkindly.

Harry allowed the man to guide him, not really caring that he looked like a petulant child. He was far more interested in observing his surroundings. He'd never been to a city centre before. Aunt Petunia had only ever taken Dudley with her when she'd gone into town shopping. It was a lot like the first time he'd seen Diagon Alley – but not quite as fantastic he thought wistfully. Snape guided them into a small department store and Harry looked around with interest. He was still confused as to why Snape had brought him along. If the man wanted to go shopping, surely he could do that on his own, Harry thought.

An eager sales assistant descended upon them as they stepped into the store.

'Good morning sir, do you require assistance?' the young man asked pompously.

Snape eyed the man critically before leading him a short distance away from Harry.

'The boy requires a complete wardrobe,' he began in an undertone.

'Understood sir; this establishment often deals with similar requests,' the assistant interrupted knowingly. 'Starting boarding school is he?'

Snape considered the question briefly.

'Yes something like that,' Snape replied brusquely.

'Very well sir,' the assistant said turning back to Harry, an appraising glint in his eye. 'If your son would like to follow me, I'll sort that all out for you.'

At the word son, Potter gaped openly at Snape. The assistant had already started towards the other end of the shop but the boy remained rooted to the spot. Potter had no subtlety at all, Snape thought to himself. Smirking he addressed him.

'Harry,' he drawled. 'Kindly get your head out of the clouds and follow the assistant.'

The boy shot Snape a confused look before turning and hurrying to catch up with the assistant. Snape realised that he'd just called the boy 'Harry' for the first time ever. He'd needed to, to stay in character, but he was surprised that calling him Harry hadn't bothered him in the slightest.

XXXX

Harry spent the next two hours caught in the middle of a clothes whirlwind. The assistant had had him try on so many pairs of shirts and trousers that he'd lost count. Although Harry had never been shopping before, it had only taken him twenty minutes to get over the novelty of it. It seemed though that the assistant was nearly done, for which he was eternally grateful.

He'd caught sight of Snape occasionally between trying on t-shirts. Snape had seated himself in a chair and was immersed in a book, apparently dead to the world. Harry wasn't so sure that he was as passive as his posture suggested though. At one point the assistant had engaged Harry in a conversation of which he was fairly certain Snape had heard every word.

'So, you're starting boarding school are you?'

'Err – yeah.' Harry had replied unsurely. He'd had no idea what story Snape had spun the assistant and so he'd decided it was probably best to just agree. There had been a pause as Harry tried on the shirt he'd just been handed. When he'd emerged from the dressing room again the assistant had exaggeratedly looked over at Snape before addressing Harry in a knowing tone.

'Your dad's pretty uptight isn't he?'

'Err – yeah ...I guess,' he replied slowly.

Harry was sure he'd seen Snape's lip curl slightly in a smirk at that, before the man casually removed his flask and took a long sip. Harry had to give him credit for not wincing at the taste. Unluckily for Snape the assistant had also noticed Snape taking a drink.

'I had a mate whose dad used to drink like that. Poor sod drank himself to death,' the assistant said unfeelingly. 'What do you expect though? Not even half ten in the morning and your dad's already drinking. Can't be good for him, you know? Maybe it's a good thing you're heading off to boarding school eh?' the assistant finished cheerfully, unaware that behind his back Snape had stiffened at the man's judgmental words.

'My dad's not like that,' Harry replied vehemently.

Harry wasn't sure what had made him speak up so strongly for Snape – after all Snape wasn't his father. Perhaps it was because he knew that Snape wasn't really drinking alcohol at all or because he suspected that Snape's father had been an alcoholic. Whatever the reason he was surprised when Snape had relaxed slightly at his words.

'Of course he's not,' the assistant had replied uninterestedly before handing Harry another set of clothes.

The assistant hadn't spoken again but Harry noticed that Snape was careful to only drink whilst the assistant was distracted. Although Snape appeared absorbed in his book Harry had also noticed that the man's eyes had been constantly scanning the surrounding area whilst his right hand had remained clenched in his pocket, undoubtedly around his wand.

Finally they were finished and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. As Harry changed back into his clothes, Snape stood and accompanied the assistant to the counter. When Harry emerged from the change room Snape was stuffing a wallet into an inside pocket and the assistant now wore a self-satisfied grin. Snape picked up three of the bags and handed them to Harry before gathering the rest himself. He nodded stiffly at the attendant before gesturing for Harry to lead the way out.

'Thank you for your business,' the cashier called cheerfully from the front desk.

Once they were outside Harry immediately opened his mouth, determined to question Snape.

'Quiet Potter, and follow me,' Snape cut him off briskly.

He led Harry down an alley before grabbing his arm and disapparating them both to Spinner's End.

XXXX

By the time Harry had recovered, Snape had already entered the house. Harry swallowed back the bile that had risen in his throat before following Snape inside, shutting the door behind him. He looked into the kitchen and dining room but Snape wasn't there so he backtracked to the sitting room and took a seat, waiting patiently. He didn't have to wait long before Snape rounded the corner. He was back to normal and sporting his traditional black clothing. He placed the bags he was carrying next to Harry before pointing his wand at Harry and reversing the changes to his appearance. Harry rubbed his hands through his hair, appreciating the return to its unruly state, before he turned to Snape. The man seemed to have anticipated that Harry had questions as he'd seated himself opposite and had fixed Harry with a bored stare.

'Who paid for all of this?' Harry asked simply, gesturing at the bags before him.

During the time he'd spent trying on clothes he'd deduced that this was what had kept Snape preoccupied for the last few days. He just wasn't sure about the motivation behind the entire trip. He was fairly sure Snape had worked alone on this. After all the man had agreed to keep Harry's secrets to himself which made it seem unlikely that Dumbledore had been involved. Where the money had come from though perplexed him. He wasn't kidding himself though, whoever had paid for it had just spent an inordinate amount of money on him. As such, Harry was determined to pay them back.

Snape seemed deeply amused by his question and smirked openly at Harry's determined expression.

'Who do you think Potter?' he asked sarcastically. 'You were standing not five feet from me as I paid.'

'You...' Harry spluttered, astounded. 'But why?'

Harry considered what Snape had claimed. It just seemed ridiculously unlikely that Professor Snape would ever spend money on him. However, he knew it was equally unlikely that Snape would ever allow him to think that he had spent money on him – unless he really had. Snape considered his answer carefully before replying.

'Listen carefully Potter,' he began sternly. 'It would have been a failing on my part as an adult to have allowed you to continue wearing those rags. No child deserves that,' his mouth twisted oddly at those words, as though he found them ironic. 'Your relatives failed you Potter and I would have been a sorry excuse for a human being if I had not taken steps to rectify the situation. Don't look at me like that Potter; I am not _pitying_ you, nor is it likely that I ever will. I simply did what was required of me.'

'Teachers don't spend money on student's sir,' Harry pointed out shrewdly. 'I need to know the cost though sir, so I can pay you back,' he finished empathetically.

Snape considered Potter quietly, a wry smile spreading across his face. The boy was definitely devious – much like his mother, Snape realised. However, he was also determined and stubborn. If Snape didn't nip it in the bud now, he knew Potter would whine continually until he was allowed to pay for the clothes. The boy simply did not understand that it was the job of the adult to provide the necessities for the child. Again he found himself inwardly cursing Potter's guardians.

However, Potter was right. What he had done was not the role of a teacher. He'd irrevocably crossed that line and now he could not go back. In for a penny in for a pound he thought ruefully as he addressed Potter.

'No Potter,' he began silkily. 'You do not need to know the cost as you will not be paying me back. The clothes were bought specifically for you and they are now yours. The Dursleys were wretched guardians indeed, for you have failed to grasp the concept that a guardian is supposed to provide for you. The money to which you currently have access was set aside by your parent's primarily for when you reach your majority. It was not their intention for you to be paying your way through school. Do not interrupt Potter; we will discuss the intricacies of your bank account at another time.'

He paused briefly to ensure that Potter was going to hold his tongue and to reassure himself that he wasn't making a mistake. He took a deep breath in, calming himself before continuing past the point of no return.

'You are in my care Potter, which makes me your guardian for the duration of your stay here,' Snape said bluntly. 'Given my status as your guardian it is my right and obligation to provide for you. The clothes are yours Potter and you will not be paying for them, understood?'

'Yes sir.'

Harry paused briefly, studying Snape quizzically, before continuing. 'There's one thing I don't understand sir. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're my guardian and all – you've been a better guardian in 3 weeks than the Dursleys ever have. But what I don't understand is this. You hate me. Why would you help me? I'm James Potter's son, a man for which you cannot list a single good quality.'

Snape cut him off sharply, a bite in his tone which had not been there previously.

'I do not hate you Potter, whatever you may think. There is a history between your father and I that you cannot comprehend. Admittedly I have judged you solely on your father's actions in the past, given what you represent in this. However, you are not entirely your father Potter, and I see that now.'

'James Potter is dead sir,' Harry said bluntly. 'I have no recollection of him or how he behaved. I am sorry if he wronged you in the past but I am not my father. I'm just Harry.'

Harry's statement was met by silence. Snape's expression was stony but eventually he gave Harry a stiff nod. At least he might think first before he judges, Harry thought hopefully.

'So,' Harry said audaciously, breaking the silence, 'what would my father think if he knew you were acting as my guardian?'

Snape seemed surprised by the question but considered it. He let out a snort of contempt as he imagined what James Potter would really think if he knew Severus Snape had willingly become the boy's temporary guardian.

'You're father would be horrified, to say the least,' Snape drawled amusedly.

'And my mother?' Harry asked quietly.

Snape sobered immediately, an expressionless mask falling into place. He did not answer Harry for sometime but when he did answer Harry knew instinctually that he was telling the truth.

'I don't know, Potter,' Snape murmured sadly, more to himself than Harry. 'I don't know.'

Harry realised Snape needed to be alone and so he grabbed the bags and made to leave. As he reached the doorway he stopped and faced the still silent Snape.

'Thank you sir,' he said genuinely.

Snape's eyes were focused on Harry's but Harry got the impression that he was looking past him. He smiled at the Professor before exiting the room, leaving him to his thoughts.

XXXX

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who reviewed, it's been great hearing from you all! I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter - somehow these chapters just keep getting bigger haha. Until next time :)


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11 _4th - 5th May 1996_

Harry ducked as a curse flew over his head, dodging to the right to avoid the one he knew would follow close behind. As expected, a hex hit right where his head had just been. Snape was becoming predictable, Harry realised. Since Harry had had no trouble achieving OWL standard in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Snape had decided on a more practical way to spend the lessons. The first few duels had been quick with Snape easily defeating Harry. However, Harry was a quick learner and a keen observer. The duels were now much longer and having spent so much time watching Snape, Harry was beginning to gain some insight into Snape's duelling technique. He dropped behind the sofa, catching his breath as he rapidly considered his options.

Whichever way he looked at it Snape definitely had the advantage. He was employing non-verbal spells, which meant Harry had no warning as to what spell was hurtling his way. Although he doubted Snape would hit him with anything lethal, that didn't mean he particularly wanted to be on the receiving end of the hexes. On a few occasions he'd had to drop suddenly or employ a hasty shield charm to avoid spells. Plus Snape had a huge arsenal of hexes and curses at his command which meant Harry was dealing with spells he had never encountered before. In one lesson Snape had hit Harry with a hex that somehow glued his tongue to the roof of his mouth. That had effectively ended the duel as Harry had had no idea what spell had been used against him and since he had yet to learn non-verbal spells he'd been helpless. Snape had left him like that for half an hour to 'teach him the benefits of non-verbal casting', much to Harry's chagrin.

Harry also suspected Snape was employing Legilimency occasionally which meant Harry stood next to no chance of getting something past Snape's defences. What he really needed was a distraction, he thought. An idea occurred to him, and if Snape was where he thought he was it might just work. If it did Snape would never see it coming – he'd beaten Harry so many times now that Harry suspected he wasn't really taking the duels seriously. It also helped that Snape believed Harry capable only of "Gryffindor rashness" as he put it.

'Kindly desist from cowering behind the sofa, Potter,' Snape said in a bored voice. 'Not all of us can afford to lounge about all day.'

Harry knew he had seconds to put his plan into action. He'd been stationary for too long and if he didn't act soon Snape would become suspicious. Lying flat on his stomach, he peered under the sofa, gauging Snape's position. He was standing exactly where Harry expected. Grinning to himself, Harry whispered '_Locomotor table_' and silently repositioned the rickety table so that it was now next to Snape. He crouched quietly on the balls of his feet, before glancing at his discarded textbook which sat on the armchair beside Snape. His movement attracted Snape's attention and a silent hex flew over Harry's head as he rolled to the right. As he rolled he cried out '_Accio!_'

A momentary look of confusion crossed Snape's face before he realised what Harry had done. Snape turned a second too late, distracted as he was by Harry's movement. Harry's summoning spell had been stronger than he'd anticipated. Instead of just calling his own textbook, several books were now hurtling towards him at a rapid speed. He didn't allow that to faze him though as he calmly watched Snape.

Snape seemed to have realised that he'd turned too slowly to stop the books and so he did the only thing he could – which was precisely what Harry had expected: he attempted to dodge the books. And in doing so Snape stepped sideways to where he thought there was a clear space. Instead he stumbled backwards over the table, hands flying out as he attempted to right himself. Snape didn't fall completely; instead he was confusedly leaning against the table – a scowl on his face. Harry seized on Snape's temporary uncertainty, expertly countering the _Accio_ before raising his wand at Snape.

'_Expelliarmus!_' he cried.

He watched with satisfaction as Snape's wand flew from a horrified Snape's hand straight into Harry's waiting hand. As he caught Snape's wand, he realised that he'd perhaps been a little too enthusiastic with the spell. It seemed his _Expelliarmus_ had hit Snape squarely in the chest and knocked him backwards. Snape was now sprawled on the ground in an undignified heap. He looked up at Harry in shock, an irate scowl in place. The scowl didn't quite reach Snape's eyes though and Harry noted with relief. In fact, if he looked closely the man seemed almost pleased, and most definitely amused by the situation. Harry realised belatedly that he'd been staring at Snape and moved forward to offer him a hand up.

'I guess I win,' Harry offered happily, as he lent forward. 'Sorry about the books...and knocking you over.'

Snape simply scowled further at the approaching Harry before pulling himself up quickly and standing to face the teen. Snape held out his hand imperiously to Harry, who wordlessly handed over the wand. Harry sighed to himself as Snape made no comment, instead gazing steadily at Harry – a definite hint of amusement in his eyes.

If Snape had won the duel he would have heard no end of it, Harry thought to himself. He did allow himself a small smile in victory though as he recalled the way Snape had looked sprawled out on the floor. He turned away from Snape, moving to clear up the mess he'd made with the books. It was only as he heard the rustle of Snape's sleeve as he bought his wand to bear that Harry realised his mistake.

'_Stupefy!_' Snape whispered smugly.

The spell hit Harry in the square of his back, knocking him forward. Helpless to stop himself falling, darkness clouded his vision as he lost consciousness. The last thing he was aware of was a pair of strong hands catching him as he fell.

XXXX

Snape easily caught the boy as he fell. He'd had half a mind to just let him fall, but at the last minute he'd instinctively stepped forward and caught him. The boy's lanky form was now slumped unconscious in Snape's arms. Snape huffed to himself before picking the boy up easily and depositing him on the sofa. He found himself studying Potter's unguarded expression. Asleep, he looked less like James Potter, his expression carefree. Unconsciously his hand moved to rest lightly on the boy's forehead.

'Not just a rash Gryffindor then Potter,' he murmured to the boy, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 'Who'd have thought you capable of thinking like a Slytherin?'

Potter stirred slightly and Snape started, realising that his hand had been resting on Potter's forehead. He pulled his hand back quickly, shoving it into his pocket. He remained staring at the boy for a second longer, wondering why he wasn't more horrified to have found himself comforting a Potter. He turned sharply, shoving his thoughts away, and preceded to the kitchen to start lunch.

XXXX

Harry looked around him groggily as consciousness returned; for a moment confused as to where he was. He sat up on the sofa, which was when he recalled that he'd been duelling Snape. He'd beaten the man only to have been stunned by him as he turned away. As he shifted he noticed a slight tender area in the small of his back. He reached round and prodded the area, eliciting a wince. A bruise must have formed from where Snape's stunning spell had hit him he realised. He was surprised that was the only injury he'd sustained, given he was sure he'd been falling forward when he'd been stunned. He remembered then the comforting feeling of strong hands grabbing him from behind – preventing him from smashing his face into the ground. Snape must have caught him, he realised. The thought warmed him somewhat, to know that Snape had ensured he hadn't harmed himself. Still, he wasn't going to let Snape off the hook for the stunt he'd pulled. He checked his watch and noticed it was lunch time – he'd only been knocked out for fifteen minutes. He stood and made his way into the dining room.

Snape was sitting at the table with a sandwich, perusing a potion journal. He glanced up when Harry entered, shooting a smirk at the boy. The smirk only incensed Harry who seated himself ungraciously across from Snape before addressing him.

'That was completely unfair!' Harry began indignantly. 'I'd already won the duel!'

Harry's righteous anger seemed only to amuse Snape further, much to Harry's vexation. He bit into a sandwich, waiting for Snape to respond.

'Was it really?' Snape began calmly, laughter evident in his eyes. 'I believe, I was in fact, teaching you a valuable lesson.'

'Oh yes, and what was that?' Harry asked stubbornly, still determined to claim his victory.

'Why, to never turn your back on an opponent of course. I believe I've made enough of an impression to ensure you don't commit such a rudimentary error again, Mister Potter?' Snape asked smugly.

Harry just gaped at him.

'But…what…that's…' Harry spluttered wordlessly.

Harry's inability to form coherent words seemed to push Snape over the edge. A rich sound startled Harry, before he realised it was Snape. The man was genuinely laughing. For a moment Harry thought Snape was laughing at him in bad taste, before he realised Snape was laughing at the entire situation. With that Harry laughed also – to think he'd gone to all the trouble of tricking Snape, only to have the man better him.

Their laughter died down into a companionable silence. For the first time in a long time Snape felt light-hearted. His amusement at Potter's theatrics had lifted a weight from him. He hadn't laughed properly in years – yet this boy had managed to amuse him. For a moment he'd been able to forget everything that was wrong with his life; simply because a boy had had the gall to question him. The strange thing was that he wasn't annoyed at Potter for questioning him. He knew very well that Potter had won the duel yet he still maintained that he'd taught the boy a valuable lesson. What had really amused him though was that Potter had reminded him of himself as a teenager. He would have protested just as much as Potter had if he'd thought himself similarly cheated. Briefly he wondered just when he had begun to tolerate this easy banter with Potter. It didn't bother him though as he realised he actually enjoyed talking with Potter. It reminded him of similar discussions held a lifetime ago – before he'd forgotten how to laugh.

'Well, I trust you won't make the same mistake again?' Snape asked, dragging his thoughts away from where they had been headed.

Potter considered him momentarily before replying with a cheeky grin.

'Definitely not,' he began. 'You might have bested me this time sir, but I'll make sure I win decisively next time.'

'We'll see, Potter,' Snape said, a small grin playing around his mouth. 'We'll see.'

With that their discussion turned to Potter's progress, all thoughts of Lily locked away once again.

XXXX

It was Saturday evening, and Harry found himself amusing himself with a book on Quidditch he'd found in his trunk. He was reading the match statistics for the last time the Chudley Cannons had won a match when he heard Snape on the stairs. He'd left his door open so he watched as Snape swept past quickly towards his own room. Harry knew of only one thing that would have Snape moving that quickly, and so he closed his book and moved to the door. Snape was already on his way out of his room, his elaborate Death Eater robes now in place. He stopped when he saw Harry watching him. Harry's eyes moved unconsciously towards the mask clutched in Snape's left hand. Snape saw him looking and shoved the mask into an inner pocket before addressing Harry.

'I need to leave for a bit. You know the rules Potter,' he said briskly.

Harry met Snape's eyes and nodded. Snape appeared satisfied for he moved towards the steps. He was about to descend when he stopped and turned back to Harry.

'Do not let me find you out of bed when I return Potter,' he growled.

The words lacked their usual menace though and Harry thought he detected the slightest bit of apprehension in Snape's eyes before the man turned and hurried to the door. Harry heard it close and seconds later the tell-tale sound of Snape disapparating.

Harry turned and made his way back into his room. His book was where he had left it but it seemed trivial to be reading about Quidditch now. Instead he lay on his bed, thinking about Snape. Something about Snape didn't add up. The man was risking his life constantly – but what for? Not for the first time Harry found himself wondering about Snape's past. He sighed, he'd get nowhere speculating. He didn't know enough about the man to fathom his reasons. Instead he made his way to the bathroom for a shower before heading to bed; for once heeding Snape's words.

XXXX

It was still dark when Harry woke suddenly. He sat up in bed, listening carefully to the sounds of the house – something had woken him, he was sure of it. He heard it then, the sound of someone stumbling and muffled cursing. Silently he got out of bed, grabbing his glasses and wand as he did so. He eased his door open carefully and was surprised to see light coming from downstairs. He looked over to Snape's room and saw the door was ajar. Approaching warily, he pushed the door open further but found the room empty. He caught sight of Snape's Death Eater robes strewn across the floor, but the sound of glass breaking stopped him from investigating further. Turning he made his way quickly downstairs. He checked both the kitchen and the dining room but they were both empty. He entered the sitting room expecting to find Snape, but found it empty. For a moment he was confused until a muffled thump brought his attention to the small opening in the bookshelf. The door Snape had forbidden him from ever entering was slightly ajar. It was from there the muffled sounds were coming. Steeling himself Harry approached the door and opened it fully.

The door opened onto a narrow gloomy staircase. He could see the outline of another door leading into a room at the top. Carefully he made his way up the stairs. He kept his wand out although he could hear now that it was Snape who was in the room. It sounded as though he were moving things about and swearing occasionally as he did so. Harry reached the door and pushed it open, unsure of what he would find on the other side.

Harry frowned in confusion as he caught sight of the room. It was obviously the master bedroom, although there was no furniture in the room. Why Snape was using a guest room then, he couldn't understand. The room had obviously not been used in a long time, dust coated all the surfaces and the old curtains were mouldy and tattered. Instead of furniture the room had been filled with boxes, as though someone had packed up half the house and shoved it into this single room. Old crockery and other household items spilled from the few boxes that Snape had obviously been going through. The man himself was standing further into the room oblivious to Harry's presence. He was searching through a box, using the light of a small candle that was resting precariously beside the box. He was obviously struggling to see as he was cursing under his breath as he shifted through the items in the box. Harry wondered why he didn't just use his wand and stepped forward with his own wand lit, casting light on Snape. Snape turned to face the light, flinching at the brightness and it was then Harry realised why Snape hadn't thought to use his wand.

Snape was utterly drunk.

He stared blearily at Harry not recognising him, five o-clock shadow obvious. His eyes were bloodshot and his breath stank of booze. His normally pristine button down shirt was hanging open, a dirty white singlet visible underneath. His sleeves were rolled to the elbows, revealing the ugly tattoo that marked his left forearm. He'd lost his belt at some point and so his trousers hung low, barely staying up given the man's slight frame. Surprisingly his boots were still on.

Looking around Harry caught sight of several empty bottles of muggle alcohol lying at Snape's feet. Glass was spread across the floor and Harry realised the shattering he'd heard had been Snape breaking his glass. Snape stared blearily at Harry for a moment more before turning and swigging Firewhiskey straight from a bottle that had been hidden at his side. It was as Snape raised the bottle and sloshed half the whiskey down his front that Harry noticed he was shaking uncontrollably. He recognised the symptoms and realised with dawning horror that Snape was suffering the after effects of the Cruciatus. It seemed that whatever had happened tonight had caused Snape to lose himself in drink.

Snape was back to searching in the boxes now, though how he was managing to do anything Harry did not know. He realised that Snape was dangerously close to knocking over the candle, which would be disastrous given the amount of alcohol splashed around the place. He hurriedly snatched the candle and blew it out. Snape didn't appear to notice, so intently was he searching. He was muttering to himself as he searched.

'Where is it…I put it all away…It should be here!'

Whatever it was that Snape was searching for he appeared to be becoming quite frustrated with his futile search. Harry sighed to himself, he knew he'd have to deal with Snape – there was no way the man would be capable of getting himself to bed, and Harry could hardly leave him alone in his current state.

'Damn it all to hell!' Snape roared suddenly, lashing out at the box.

He slammed it against the wall and Harry heard several plates break. He stepped away from Snape, aware that in his current state it was probably safest to keep Snape at arms left. Snape was breathing heavily, his fingers digging into the bridge of his nose as he mumbled incoherently to himself. The bottle of Firewhiskey was still clutched in his hand and he lifted it suddenly, finishing it messily. Harry jumped in shock as Snape swore viciously, smashing the Firewhiskey bottle against the ground in anger. Glass exploded everywhere but Snape seemed unfazed, instead staring mesmerised at the shards surrounding him.

'Sir, you need to come with me,' Harry said quietly.

Harry figured the best place for Snape now was his own room, but the man seemed not to hear him. He called three more times before Snape looked up from the shards of glass he'd been staring at so intently. His expression was vacant; he clearly hadn't heard or recognised Harry's voice. As he took in Harry's appearance though something seemed to click into place and a look of pure hatred entered Snape's eyes.

'Piss off Potter,' Snape slurred loudly.

He took a stumbling step towards Harry, who remained rooted to the spot, confused by Snape's sudden hatred. Snape's hand shot out, grabbing Harry by the front of his shirt and pulling him closer. Harry tried to pull back but Snape was too strong. His face was white with rage, an ugly sneer marring his features. Snape felt Harry pull back, which only caused him to tighten his grip, almost lifting Harry off his feet. Spittle flew from the Professor's mouth as the man's fury broke.

'No Potter…You've taken everything from me…Everything…I won't let you get away…She…my…'

Snape's fury and his slurred speech rendered him incomprehensible. Harry fought more desperately to pull himself away from Snape, for the first time truly terrified by the man.

'Sir, please…put me down,' Harry gasped out.

Harry realised belatedly that it was a mistake to have drawn Snape's attention to him. Snape stared down at him, a crazed look entering his eyes, before he forcefully threw Harry from him. Harry was caught by surprise and twisted in an attempt to stop his fall. He fell awkwardly his right arm, taking his weight before giving way. He lay winded on the ground momentarily, his right arm having taken the brunt of the fall. Ignoring the pain he got to his feet quickly, determined to deal with Snape. The man had backed off but Harry knew he needed to be subdued. Hoping Snape wouldn't hold it against him, he raised his wand.

'_Stupefy!_' he cried.

His spell hit Snape square in the chest, knocking him backwards towards the boxes. Harry raced forward and grabbed him around the elbow, steadying him as he lost consciousness. He lowered him slowly to the floor, away from the glass before stepping back to assess his own injuries.

XXXX

He'd grabbed Snape with his left arm, his right arm oddly sore and it was that which he now inspected. The arm was coated in a sticky wet substance which took him a moment to identify as blood. He realised then that he'd landed in the glass from the broken bottle. He fought the urge to vomit at the sight of large glass shards embedded in his forearm, and a particularly nasty shard caught deep between his finger and thumb. It seemed his arm had protected the rest of his body from being stabbed to pieces by the larger shards. Thankful that he hadn't grabbed Snape with his right hand he considered the wound.

The glass was in deep, which meant it was likely preventing excessive blood loss. As such pulling the shards out would be dangerous, unless he had a way to stop the bleeding. He cursed to himself silently when he realised he'd yet to learn anything that would allow him to heal the deep cuts he was dealing with. His best hope was to bind the cuts for now and do his best to ensure Snape was still alive in the morning he thought morbidly.

Resigned to watching Snape for the night he summoned some of the bandages Snape had transfigured for his previous injury. He took a seat beside one of the boxes, as several bandages zoomed into the room and landed at his feet. Gingerly he picked them up and awkwardly bandaged the glass shards into place so that they wouldn't move and aggravate the wounds. He tied them as tightly as he could but it was hard with only one hand. Instead he used a nifty knot-tying hex Ron's brothers had shown him for tying people's shoelaces together, to secure the ends. His arm was starting to pain him now but he ignored it for the moment. He doubted he'd be able to get into Snape's potion stores so he'd just have to hope Snape had something upstairs.

He stood carefully, brushing glass shards off himself as he inspected the sorry sight that was Professor Snape. Raising his wand he vanished the shards which were scattered on the floor before considering how best to move Snape. He pointed his wand at Snape before muttering '_Mobilicorpus_'.

Snape was pulled into a standing position, feet hovering off the ground as though being controlled by a puppeteer. His head lolled on his chest, his hair obscuring his features. The sight caused Harry to pause for a moment as the queerest sensation of déjà vu over took him. He couldn't recall, but he was almost certain that he'd seen Snape in a similar position before. He wondered briefly at the vague memory, but he recalled nothing further. Cradling his right arm to his body he pointed his wand ahead of him and carefully manoeuvred Snape down the staircase. As they reached the bottom he secured the door before directing Snape out of the sitting room and up the stairs.

They made it back upstairs without incidence but once they reached the landing Snape began to stir. He groaned, still unconscious before vomiting without warning. It appeared Snape had been drinking on an empty stomach. Harry quickly dealt with the vomit that coated the floor, vanishing it instantly. Unluckily though the majority of Snape's vomit coated the man himself. Harry wasn't sure how to clean that up effectively so he left Snape in his sicked on clothes, instead focused on getting the man to his room as quickly as possible.

He directed Snape to the edge of his bed before removing the spell and carefully placing him on the bed. He lent Snape against the headboard before clumsily pulling the man's soiled clothing off. He considered redressing the man in pyjamas but he knew Snape was likely to be vomiting for the rest of the night. However, he didn't want to risk Snape's wrath if the man woke wearing only his briefs, so he grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the dresser and clumsily put them on for the unconscious man.

Satisfied that Snape would be fine for the next few minutes he focused on his own arm. He'd managed to ignore the pain whilst moving Snape but the dull ache was becoming distracting. If he was going to have to wait for Snape to heal him properly he'd need to find some kind of pain relief. He moved to Snape's bedside table and examined it perfunctorily. He didn't want to look too closely for he knew Snape was an incredibly private man and would not take kindly to Harry going through his things. He looked over at Snape's desk which was tidy except for the Death Eater mask which had been placed on it, looking extremely incongruous. He was about to examine the drawers when he noticed several vials positioned at the back of the desk, hidden behind the mask. To his relief he spotted a pain relieving potion. Grabbing it he downed it immediately. A moment later he felt a cool sensation in his right arm and breathed a sigh of relief at the reduction in the pain.

A hitch in Snape's breathing caught Harry's attention and he turned back to the Professor to find him chocking on his own vomit. Harry hurriedly approached Snape and pushed the man onto his side so that his head hung over the bed. Snape's airway cleared as his gag reflex came into play, a mixture of saliva and bile congealing on the floor. Harry vanished the vomit before leaving Snape in the recovery position and dashing to the bathroom. He grabbed several towels taking them back to Snape's room with him. Snape was still dead to the world and Harry grimaced at the mess the man had made on himself. He used one of the towels to wipe off Snape's chest and mouth. He discovered that when he'd rolled Snape forward he'd unwittingly caught some of the man's hair near his mouth. It was now matted through with vomit. Harry did his best to clear it up with the towel but the sick had dried quickly and now coated Snape's hair. He gathered the remaining clean towel up and carefully positioned it under Snape's head, covering the bed and pillow. Not trusting his transfiguration abilities he summoned a bucket from the laundry, placing it beneath Snape's head, within easy reach. Harry pulled out Snape's desk chair, dragging it across to Snape's bed before grabbing his Quidditch book from his own room.

'You're going to have a killer hangover in the morning,' he said quietly. Snape remained unresponsive but still Harry addressed him.

'Why?'

It was a rhetorical question but the question nagged at Harry. Why had Snape drunk himself stupid? And who exactly had Snape thought Harry to be? Settling himself in Snape's chair, realising he'd get no answers yet, he found himself keeping vigil once again.

XXXX

Snape vomited half a dozen more times throughout the night and early morning; semi-conscious and completely unaware of the assistance he was being given. Harry remained wordlessly by his Professor's side, dealing with everything without complaint. He did not sleep, instead perusing various books. By mid-morning Snape had not vomited for several hours and had finally fallen into a restful sleep, allowing Harry the time to have a shower and get himself breakfast. He made his way back up to Snape's room, aware that his arm was becoming uncomfortable again. He retook his seat by Snape's side, hoping the man would wake up soon.

XXXX

Snape woke slowly, his thoughts groggy and his memory haphazard. He recognised the ache in his muscles as that characteristic of the Cruciatus, but the pain in his head was a thousand times worse. He felt as though he'd been trampled by a herd of Hippogriffs. The tattoo of his own heartbeat echoed like a foghorn in his skull. His mouth was dry, the bitter taste of bile and alcohol coating his tongue. He opened his eyes slowly, wincing as the light hit his retina. He groaned slightly as he shifted in his bed, shutting his eyes tightly to keep out the light. His heard someone move before a voice abused his sensitive hearing.

'Sir, are you alright?' Harry asked quietly, having noticed Snape had woken.

Potter, Snape realised, wincing at the loud tone the boy had used. He attempted to open his eyes again but the light was still too strong.

'Can you turn the bloody lights off Potter,' he growled out; his raw throat making his voice break.

Potter did not move for a moment and Snape wondered what he was playing at. He was about to question the boy when he heard the curtains being closed.

'Err…is that better sir?' Harry asked confusedly. To him the room had been quite dim.

Snape did not answer; instead pushing himself into a sitting position, wincing as his muscles protested. He took in his surroundings with increasing dread. By the size of his hangover he'd obviously had a huge amount to drink. He realised with horror that Potter must have put him to bed, and if the chair and bucket were anything to go by the boy had actually looked after him. He thought back to the previous night but was unable to recall much. He knew he'd been to a Death Eater meeting but that was all he could remember presently. Between that and waking up now, his memory was blank.

'Merlin help me, what have I done?' he muttered to himself.

He stood shakily, the effects of the Cruciatus still accosting him. Potter was oddly quiet and Snape glanced over at him. He was standing in shadow by the window and Snape could barely make him out as he squinted across the room. There was something odd about the way Potter was standing but his hangover clouded his senses and so he dismissed the thought.

'Sir, we need to talk,' Potter began, but Snape cut him off with a gesture.

'Give me half an hour to clean up,' he compromised.

Potter looked as though he wanted to ask something but he withheld, instead nodding his assent. Relieved Snape made his way to the bathroom glad to be away from the boy.

XXXX

He leant against the bathroom sink taking in his appearance. It was only then that he realised he was shirtless and wearing clean pants. His cheeks coloured as he realised Potter had stripped him; his humiliation increased when he considered that he'd likely vomited on himself. His face was pale and his eyes bloodshot he noted. Stubble covered his cheeks, whilst his hair was a sticky mess of congealed sick. He divested himself of his remaining clothing and doused himself with steaming hot water. The heat of the water soothed his headache and cleared his head. He lost himself in thought under the water, as the filth from the previous night was washed away. He tried desperately to recall more of his evening but the events were blurred and there were large gaps in his memory.

'What the hell was I thinking,' he cried out, punching the wall of the shower several times to release some of his anger.

He vaguely recalled being thoroughly depressed to be coming back to Spinner's End after the meeting. These past few weeks he'd spent more time in the house than he had since coming of age. It was driving him insane, trapped in the house with his memories. Potter alleviated some of the tension he felt from being cooped up in the house but the stress of the Death Eater meeting had driven him to drink. After that first evening he'd removed the liquor from his cabinet and stashed it in his own room. He'd told himself it was to avoid temptation, but it was just as much to prevent Potter from throwing it out like he had the Firewhiskey he'd found. He'd managed alright for a few weeks but eventually he'd succumbed and had taken to drinking alone at night, long after Potter had fallen asleep. He despised himself for his behaviour – it was far too similar to his own father's – but he knew it was only whilst he was here. The house reminded him too much of his childhood and the memories only heightened his guilt. And so he drank; simply to forget himself for a few hours, whilst Potter was unable to provide distraction.

He stepped out of the shower, the events of the previous night still hazy. Whatever had happened he could not deny that he owed Potter an explanation. He was shamed to think that only a day ago he had had the audacity to claim temporary guardianship over the boy. After everything he had said, he had forced Potter to once again act as an adult. Fifteen year old boys were not supposed to spend all night watching over drunken adults, he thought bitterly.

Having made himself presentable he made his way downstairs towards his potion stores. Potter was not in the kitchen so he presumed the boy was waiting for him in the sitting room. He quickly selected a potion suitable for his hangover, taking it immediately. He was relieved to note that the after effects of the Cruciatus had subsided, his hand able to grip the vial steadily. As the potion took effect the pounding in his head subsided and the light became less intense. Within minutes his senses were essentially back to normal. As he passed through the kitchen again he noticed Potter had put aside a plate for him. The sight of food made him feel queasy though, so he put it away for later.

XXXX

Potter was in the sitting room as he'd predicted; occupying the sofa, his back to Snape and the door. The boy's head was leant back and Snape realised guiltily that he was asleep. It was as he passed Potter, to take his seat in the armchair, that he finally realised what had seemed off with him. The boy's right arm was cradled carefully against his body, wrapped in bandages. Stains of dark blood were evident on the surface, suggesting the wounds had bled for quite some time.

'Potter,' Snape breathed out, aghast at the sight before him.

The boy did not hear and Snape cursed himself for not noticing. He'd dismissed the way Potter had been standing and he'd overridden Potter when the boy had spoken to him earlier. He crouched down next to the boy, and carefully shook him awake.

'Potter, why didn't you tell me you were injured?' he asked in a deadly calm voice.

Harry stared at him blearily for a minute, sleep still evident in his eyes before he seemed to comprehend the question.

'You were busy sir,' he replied lamely.

Snape ran his hands through his hair in a gesture of weariness and defeat.

'I wasn't busy Potter; I simply wished to have a shower. I was unaware that you were injured.' He paused, giving Harry a searching look as he continued. 'Do you honestly believe that I would be heartless enough to have ignored your injury?'

Harry did not reply but that was answer enough for Snape. An odd feeling of hurt overcame him as he realised that Potter thought so little of him.

'I don't know how it was with your previous guardians Potter, but whilst you are under my care you are to tell me immediately if you are ever injured. Do you understand?'

Snape spoke with such conviction that Harry realised he'd unintentionally insulted the man and offered an explanation.

'Yes, I know sir. I normally deal with injuries myself, but I wasn't sure how to get the glass out without causing further damage,' he said frankly.

'Glass?' queried Snape, a look of confusion on his face. He gestured for Harry to stand before guiding the boy to the dining room table. Harry took a seat, gingerly laying his arm on the table whilst Snape took the seat next to him before gently examining Harry's handiwork.

'Have you taken anything for the pain' Snape asked, watching the boy closely.

'I took a pain-reliever I found on your desk about six hours ago.'

Snape nodded, the boy was definitely in need of a second dose. He stood and retrieved a vial from his store, re-seating himself as Harry downed the potion.

'How exactly were you injured?' Snape asked calmly, carefully unwinding the bandages Harry had applied.

Snape's question was met with silence and Snape looked up to see Potter looking uncomfortable. A feeling of unease settled over Snape and he prompted Potter to answer.

'Don't you remember sir?' Harry asked quietly, not meeting Snape's gaze.

Snape's grip on Harry's arm tightened slightly before Snape seemed to recollect himself. A sense of dread overcame Snape and he was reluctant to continue questioning Potter. He had to know though – had he harmed the boy?

'Unfortunately at present I am unable to recollect the full details of last night.'

He forced himself to sound detached but Potter did not seem to be fooled. For the briefest of seconds Potter met his gaze, a look of understanding in his eyes, and in that moment Snape knew he was the source of the injury. He pushed away the feelings of disappointment and self-loathing, putting his mask firmly in place. He focused simply on unwinding Potter's bandage and listening to Potter's summary of events.

'You were in the room with all the boxes sir,' Potter began apologetically.

Snape froze; it was worse than he'd thought. What in Merlin's name had possessed him to go up there he thought to himself. He hadn't been up there in years, yet he knew almost immediately what he would have been searching for. He could only hope now that Potter had managed to get him out of the room quickly. Harry continued on, oblivious to Snape's thoughts.

'There were a few muggle bottles lying around and you'd knocked over a glass or something earlier. You were looking for something in particular sir, but you couldn't seem to find it. You…were frustrated and so I asked you to come downstairs with me.'

Harry paused and Snape sensed that he was reluctant to continue. Snape had a fair idea of what was coming though. He'd heard the pause in Potter's explanation of his mood, which meant he'd likely been swearing and irrational when Potter had come across him. Given what he was looking for he guessed he hadn't recognised the boy as Harry Potter.

'Did I recognise you?' Snape asked resignedly.

'You called me Potter…' the boy said quietly.

Harry's reluctance to answer confirmed Snape's fear that he had spoken to the boy as though he were James Potter. Snape finished removing the bandage as he considered what to say next. He examined Potter's arm distractedly. There were two large pieces of glass embedded in the boy's forearm and a third deep between the finger and thumb. The latter would be the hardest to remove he noted, so he started with one of the forearm shards. He worked swiftly, confidently removing the glass and healing the underlying laceration before it could bleed. He paused before starting on the second piece.

'It was not you, Harry, to whom I was speaking,' he said gravely.

The boy seemed startled by the use of his first name, causing Snape to smirk slightly. He paused before continuing, watching Potter's evident relief. His expression turned sombre as he asked his next question.

'Do you recall what I said to you?'

'Err…you said I'd taken everything from you…that you wouldn't allow me to get away with it…you were talking about someone in particular I think sir,' Harry said embarrassedly. 'I don't know what else you said though, you were so angry and…well you weren't really coherent after a while.'

'I see,' Snape said calmly, although he was anything but calm. He couldn't believe that in his inebriated state he'd revealed so much to the boy. He also suspected that Potter had picked up more than he was letting on, but Snape let it pass for the minute. He knew Potter was skirting the circumstances of his injury and so Snape cut to the chase.

'How did that result in you slicing your arm open?' Snape asked bluntly.

Harry looked at Snape sheepishly, aware that he'd been caught out, before replying hesitantly.

'When you thought I was my dad, you grabbed me and started yelling all that stuff. I tried to get away but you were too strong. I asked you to put me down…' Harry shifted nervously, unsure of how Snape would take the rest of his explanation. The memory of how Snape had looked at him was still fresh in his mind. Even though he knew Snape had been seeing James Potter, the man's fury had been terrible to behold – it was not something he wanted to encounter again.

Snape seemed to sense his hesitation though and indicated with a stiff nod for him to continue; determined to hear everything.

'Well…you threw me from you sir,' Harry said plainly. He'd moved his gaze to a point above Snape's head and missed the look of horror that crossed Snape's face at his words. 'You'd smashed a bottle of Firewhiskey on the ground…and well I landed awkwardly and…well…' he gestured at his arm and Snape understood.

'Go on,' Snape prompted in a strained voice, as he carefully worked on removing the second shard of glass.

'Well after that…I stunned you sir,' Harry said nervously.

At that Snape looked up. Realising Harry was serious he laughed, trying to relieve his own unease from what had been said.

'I can't say I didn't deserve that one,' Snape said seriously, eliciting a small smile from Harry.

'Yeah, sorry about that,' Harry began. 'Anyway I moved you up to your own room, and well that's about it.'

Snape knew that wasn't quite everything. He was well aware that Potter had dealt with him vomiting all night.

'Thank you,' he said gruffly, grateful for what Potter had done.

Harry simply nodded as he watched Snape working on the second shard.

'You were right to leave the glass in,' Snape said suddenly. 'You'd have bled to death from this one if you'd pulled it out. It nicked your artery by the looks of it,' he said matter-of-factly as he sealed the cut.

A companionable silence fell as Snape moved onto the third shard. This one was lodged deeply and Harry looked away, feeling slightly queasy. He wasn't in pain, but he could still feel the shard moving as Snape worked it out. As Snape removed the piece, blood flowed from the wound, trickling across the back of Harry's hand and onto the table. Snape grabbed a swab, placing it under Harry's hand to prevent the blood from spreading.

'Sir…' Harry started, though unsure of how to phrase his question he trailed off.

Snape looked up, seemingly understanding what Harry was trying to ask.

'Let me finish this first Potter, and then we can talk,' he said calmly.

His apparent composure was a farce. He had no idea what he was going to tell the boy but he knew his behaviour warranted an explanation. He just wasn't sure if he had one. He turned his attention back to the boy's hand, carefully sealing the wound. He grabbed the swab and used it to clean up the blood which coated Harry's hand.

Suddenly Snape froze in his ministrations, looking up at Harry – bewilderment and fury in his eyes.

'What the hell is this Potter?' he growled.

Harry looked down at what Snape had seen.

'Oh,' he breathed out.

There on the back of his hands the words stood, as though they had been freshly carved: _I must not tell lies_.

XXXX

**A/N:** Hi all. Sorry about the delay in updating. I was away on holidays and didn't have access to an internet connection. Hope you all enjoy this latest chapter. Let me know your thoughts! Until next time :)


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 _5th - 11th May 1996_

'Well?' Snape demanded.

The man had turned an odd shade of red in his anger, Harry noted absentmindedly as Snape paced before him. Harry knew very well where the scars had come from – he just had no real desire to tell Snape. He considered claiming amnesia but he knew Snape would be able to tell he was lying, so Harry answered the man, albeit reluctantly.

'It's just from detention,' he mumbled.

Snape stopped dead and stared at Harry in bafflement; his thoughts all over the place. Snape had recognised the scars immediately as those made by a blood quill. Objects which were supposedly regulated by the Ministry, he thought sourly to himself. The fact that Potter had obviously spent hours with such an implement was worrisome to say the least. But that it had occurred at Hogwarts, beneath the very nose of Albus Dumbledore, was most disturbing.

'Who?' Snape asked shortly. He had his suspicions but he wanted to hear Potter confirm it.

'Professor Umbridge, sir'

'I thought as much,' Snape growled; more to himself than Harry.

He continued to pace agitatedly for a moment, before seating himself across from Harry.

'How many detentions did you have with that _woman?_'

He spat out the word 'woman' as though he found it offensive to even consider her as such.

'I don't know,' Harry muttered grudgingly, keeping his gaze resolutely fixed on his interlocked fingers.

'Do _not_ trifle with me Harry,' Snape began warningly. 'I expect you to provide a proper answer when I ask you a question. Do not give me that look; I am well within my rights to question you about this.' Snape raised an eyebrow as Harry returned his gaze to his own hands, attempting to block out Snape's words.

'Look at me please when I am speaking to you,' Snape requested and Harry complied, although rather slowly. The green eyes fixed on Snape's own dark eyes resignedly.

'Now,' Snape continued 'how many detentions did you serve with Umbridge where you were required to use a blood quill?'

Unconsciously Harry's left thumb ran over the words carved deep into his right hand, as the scar tingled at the mention of Umbridge. The action was not missed by Snape who was observing the boy keenly.

'I don't know,' Harry began his voice oddly distant as though he were lost in thought. 'I've lost track of the number of detentions I had with her. She wanted the message to 'sink in', so I used her quill in all of them.'

Snape felt sick. To think the woman had had the boy carving up his own hand for half the year. And no one had noticed. That was the worst of it. Not one teacher had realised what was going on. He recalled a discussion in the staff room earlier in the year. Minerva had been furious that Umbridge had placed Potter in detention for a week. In fact, he himself had noticed that the boy had had an inordinate number of detentions with the woman. He'd noticed Potter's name continually appearing on the detention board but had thought nothing of it – he'd assumed it was simply Potter's arrogance once again coming to the fore. He was disgusted to recollect that he'd been somewhat pleased that Potter seemed to have met his match with the teacher.

'Sweet Merlin Potter,' Snape growled. 'Did you not think to inform a teacher?'

'No,' Harry stated fiercely, a determined look entering his eyes. 'This is between Umbridge and me. I won't give her the satisfaction of hearing that I complained to a teacher about it. You don't understand,' he added quickly as Snape's scowl darkened at his words. 'She accused me of lying about everything that happened in the graveyard. It's as though, to her, Cedric just dropped dead of his own accord. She can't get away with that...it's an insult to his memory.'

'I think _I_ understand perfectly Potter,' Snape said in a deadly whisper, his fury at Umbridge barely contained. '_I_ can see this clearly for the abuse that it is.'

'What!' Harry interrupted loudly. 'This isn't abuse!'

'Really?' Snape said, his lip curling slightly. 'What pray tell would you call it then Mr Potter?' He didn't wait for Harry to answer instead continuing on, albeit in a more gentle tone. 'Teachers _cannot_ harm their students Potter. It is a fundamental rule. What Umbridge has done is abuse. She has abused her position as a teacher, to harm you. You've accepted it because you feel responsible for Diggory's death. You feel that by standing up to Umbridge for insulting Diggory's memory, you'll somehow gain penance for what happened. That by allowing yourself to cut open your own hand for the sake of Diggory, you will somehow ease your own guilt.' He paused briefly but Harry was silent, listening to him intently.

'Believe me Harry,' Snape said softly. 'It doesn't work like that. You are not to blame for what happened that night. You and I both know that. Allowing Umbridge to abuse you will not bring Diggory back. You're only hurting yourself more.'

'So you're saying I should have done nothing?' Harry burst out angrily. Deep down he knew that what Snape was saying was correct; at a subconscious level he had being using the punishment to alleviate some of his guilt. He just couldn't accept that Snape expected him to do nothing. 'That I should have let Umbridge spread her lies? I do not appreciate being called a liar.'

'I'm not saying it was wrong to stand up to Umbridge,' Snape said evenly. 'What I am saying is that you should have spoken to a teacher after the first detention. There are guidelines in place for this sort of thing Harry.' He paused, allowing his words to sink in before addressing Harry again.

'Did you tell your friends about this?'

'No,' Harry began slowly. 'They found out themselves; they noticed my hand.'

'And what did they say when they saw? Surely Ms Granger would have had the sense to inform your head of house at least?' Snape chastised.

'They wanted me to tell Dumbledore,' Harry sighed.

'Yet you did not,' Snape said frankly.

'No, and they understood that sir.'

Harry returned his gaze to his interlocked fingers once more and Snape understood that he would get nothing further from Potter presently.

'If you receive another detention from Umbridge when we return to school you are to come to me. Understood?' Snape said suddenly.

Harry looked surprised by the request but he nodded his ascent, satisfying Snape. Silence descended on the pair as both lost themselves in their thoughts. The sound of Potter's stomach rumbling some time later returned Snape to the present.

'Sorry,' Potter said sheepishly.

Snape merely inclined his head in acknowledgement.

'No matter Potter, it is after all lunchtime.'

With that he stood and left to prepare lunch.

XXXX

Harry was left sitting by himself at the dining room table, mulling over the conversation he'd just had with Snape. It had taken Harry awhile to realise that it was Snape's righteous anger on his behalf that he had found so odd about the conversation. Harry could not recall another time when an adult had cared enough to be angry _for_ him. In fact it was somewhat of a bizarre concept for Harry yet he found himself rather liking it. The realisation that Snape had spoken to him as a guardian warmed Harry immensely. He knew the situation with Snape was only temporary but he still appreciated what Snape had done, seemingly unconsciously.

His gaze settled on the swab Snape had used to clean up his arm, reminding Harry of the events of the previous night. He picked up the swab and removed the dried blood from his hand, thinking as he did so. Regardless of the conversation he'd just had with Snape, Harry knew he needed to talk to Snape about the previous night. Something was going on with the man and he was determined to find out. He just wasn't sure how to approach Snape.

Harry was deep in thought when Snape re-entered the room. He set a sandwich down for Harry and seated himself across from the boy with only a cup of tea for himself. Snape took a sip of his tea before addressing Harry.

'Well, spit it out then Potter,' Snape said resignedly.

Startled, Harry looked up. He'd been so immersed in his thoughts that he hadn't heard Snape come in. He noted Snape's lack of food and realised the man must still be feeling off. He reached for his sandwich and took a hesitant bite, before responding.

'What happened last night?' he asked simply.

He'd decided to take the direct approach; besides Snape was well aware that Harry wanted answers. Snape shifted uneasily at Harry's question. As though he were somewhat surprised that Harry was going to follow through. Snape placed his cup down purposefully before meeting Harry's determined gaze.

'I made an error of judgement last night,' Snape said carefully. 'I should not have been drinking whilst you were under my care. I can assure you it will not happen again.'

Snape knew he was lying to the boy; he'd answered with a partial truth that meant nothing. It was not an answer to the question Potter had asked but he had no intention of discussing his past with the boy. He knew it was not the answer Potter had been looking for either.

'Is that all you're going to say?' Potter asked in a detached voice.

Snape frowned slightly at Potter's tone. The boy's expression had closed off and the determined look had left his eyes.

'Yes,' Snape bit out. His voice sounded sharper than he'd intended but the way Potter had closed off had rattled him.

Harry suppressed a flinch at Snape's tone, determined to hide his feelings. Snape's answer had angered him, but in hindsight Harry should have expected it really. Snape was simply fobbing him off with an answer that meant nothing to the man. Harry was mentally kicking himself for thinking Snape had changed. After all their discussions he'd thought the Professor had meant it when he'd said they'd talk. The worst of it was that Harry couldn't stop himself from feeling let down. The bitter feeling coursed through him and before Harry could stop himself he was speaking.

'So it's alright for you to lie to me but not the other way around?' Snape said nothing, too surprised by Harry's outburst to interrupt and so Harry continued coldly.

'Every time we've spoken about my childhood, _every_ time, you've demanded that I tell you the truth. And naively, it seems, I did just that. Stupidly, I thought you'd afford me the same courtesy.'

Snape's own temper flared in response to Harry's words.

'IT IS _NOT_ YOUR PLACE TO QUESTION ME BOY,' Snape roared suddenly.

Snape regretted his words almost immediately as he saw Potter flinch violently. An uneasy silence descended on the pair. Snape cursed himself for letting his temper get the better of him once again. The fury he had felt at Potter's words had evaporated with the boy's reaction to his own words. He opened his mouth to say something but Potter beat him to it.

'You're right, my apologies sir.' The boy's calm and emotionless tone disturbed Snape.

'If you'll excuse me sir,' Potter continued in the same way, 'I'm quite tired from last night. Would it be alright if I went to bed now, sir?'

It was only one in the afternoon but Snape did not deny the boy. Not trusting himself to speak he nodded stiffly at Potter. The boy turned and left the room. Once Snape was confident that Potter was upstairs he allowed his head to fall into his hands.

'What have I done,' he mumbled to himself.

As he'd watched Potter he'd seen the boy's mask slip for the briefest of seconds. It was then he'd realised just how hurt Potter had been by his words. What shocked him most was that Potter's bewildered hurt had cut at him like a knife. Whatever I do with the boy I seem to just make mistakes, he mused silently to himself.

The worst part was that he'd taken his anger out on Potter when in reality he'd been angry at himself. He couldn't fault Potter's outburst, the boy had spoken the truth after all. Snape had foolishly forgotten just how observant Potter could be and so had assumed his explanation would satisfy the boy. He sighed to himself; he'd just have to hope Potter would drop it for now.

Standing he cleared the table. At the sight of the blood-stained swab he'd used on Potter he felt his anger return. He vowed silently to himself that he would somehow deal with Umbridge when he got back to school. There was no way he'd allow Potter to serve another detention with the woman, ever. Once he finished clearing the table he left for the sitting room, the silent house unsettling him somewhat. He realised then that he was used to Potter's presence. Sighing he immersed himself in a book, allowing himself to forget the last 24 hours.

XXXX

It was past dinner time but Potter remained elusive. Reluctant to have the teen missing meals Snape made his way up to Harry's room. The door was slightly ajar and so he entered without knocking. Snape smirked ruefully at the sight before him. Harry was sprawled on his bed, above the covers. The boy had obviously thrown himself onto the bed and not realising how tired he was had neglected to change into his pyjamas. Snape watched the boy for a minute longer, once more unhinged by how peaceful he appeared in sleep. It certainly did not compare with the stoic emotionless boy he'd been talking with earlier.

As he approached the bed he noticed Harry had folded all of his old clothing into a pile by his trunk. Frowning slightly he wondered why Potter had not yet thrown the clothing out. After all they were little better than rags. Putting the thought aside for the moment he turned to Potter.

'Potter,' he called.

The boy did not hear. Snape called several more times but to no avail. Steeling himself Snape reached out and grasped Potter by the shoulder.

'Potter,' he repeated. 'It's time for dinner.'

The boy stirred at that, rolling over and sleepily answering Snape, his eyes still closed.

'Mm...I'm too tired,' he murmured, still fast asleep.

'Regardless, I won't have you skipping meals on me Potter,' Snape replied perfunctorily.

'Mm...hmm...'

Rolling his eyes at the boy's inability to wake, although Snape was aware that he'd had next to no sleep, Snape gently shook the boy as he spoke once again.

'Potter, it is time for dinner. You need to wake up now.'

The shaking seemed to work as Potter became more coherent, although he had yet to open his eyes.

'Mm...OK...I'm up.'

Honestly the boy was insufferable Snape thought to himself wryly, amused despite himself at the boy's apparently unconscious theatrics. Satisfied that the boy was beginning to wake properly, Snape stepped back from the bed. As he did so an indignant hoot turned his attention to the boy's owl which was eyeing him haughtily from the windowsill. Snape raised an eyebrow in response.

'So I'm in trouble with you as well am I?' Snape asked the familiar quietly.

The owl launched itself from the windowsill and instinctually Snape put out his arm to receive her. The snowy white owl eyed him piercingly and Snape got the distinct impression that she had understood him completely. Unconsciously he reached out a finger to stroke her but she jerked back, her claws tightening warningly on his arm.

'Potter told you what happened I presume,' Snape continued, oblivious to his audience. 'The boy is far too impertinent for his own good.'

At that the owl nipped him fiercely on the finger. Snape gasped involuntarily at the pain.

'I guess I deserved that one,' he admitted grudgingly, he had after all treated the boy appallingly.

At that admission the owl eyed him suspiciously for a moment before nudging his hand affectionately. Snape took that to mean he was forgiven and unconsciously began to stroke the owl.

'I shouldn't have spoken to him as I did,' Snape said softly. He paused for a moment as he watched the owl preen as he stroked her gently.

'Potter's lucky to have you as a familiar. You're a faithful friend indeed,' he mused.

He watched the owl silently before a quiet voice interrupted him.

'Her name's Hedwig.'

Potter was wide awake, seated on his bed watching Snape interact with his owl. Snape flushed slightly as he realised the boy had been watching him silently for a while. Potter was staring at him curiously and Snape's breath caught as he met the boy's gaze. Harry had yet to put on his glasses and so Lily's green eyes met Snape's, unobstructed. For the first time Snape truly saw Lily's features in the boy. He wondered at how he'd been able to miss it for all these years. He returned his attention to Potter's familiar before his thoughts became too haphazard.

'A fitting name,' he murmured.

He strode to the windowsill and gently set Hedwig down before turning to face Potter. Before he could direct the boy to dinner Potter spoke up.

'I'm sorry sir,' Harry began apologetically. 'I shouldn't have said what I did. I was tired and I wasn't thinking clearly. I didn't really mean any of it...Sorry.'

Potter trailed off, his green eyes staring at Snape beseechingly.

'Apology accepted Potter,' Snape said roughly 'on the condition that you accept my own apology.'

Harry seemed surprised by the request but nodded his assent.

'I let my temper get the better of me Potter, and for that I apologise. I should not have said what I did. I believe we both spoke in haste earlier.' Snape paused momentarily before gathering his courage.

'My past is a mess Potter,' Snape said frankly. 'There is nothing to be gained by discussing it.'

Snape waited until Harry nodded stiffly before continuing.

'Very well Potter, I believe it is time for dinner.'

Snape moved to the door, Harry following. Regardless of what Snape had just explained Harry disagreed. Despite disliking Snape's methods he had to admit that discussing the Dursleys and Cedric had certainly helped him. Snape had provided him with a sense of relief – to know that someone was willing to listen. It had taken Harry awhile to see it but he appreciated Snape taking the time to continually extract answers from him. It was a liberating feeling.

Snape just didn't seem to see that he was worth the time as well. Whatever he was hiding in his past was still affecting him today, regardless of Snape's resolve to ignore it. For that reason alone Harry wanted to help him. He knew now that the direct approach wasn't going to work with Snape presently and so Harry resolved himself to finding out Snape's past on his own. And he knew exactly where he was going to start, he thought to himself. Snape's voice cut into his thoughts suddenly, startling him.

'Potter,' Snape growled impatiently, 'why in Merlin's name do you still have these rags?'

Snape had been waiting patiently for Harry to precede him out of the room but the boy had been slow to move. Whilst waiting Snape's eyes had alighted on the rags he'd spotted earlier. He challenged Potter, startling him from his thoughts.

For a moment Harry was confused as to what Snape was talking about, before he recollected himself.

'Oh...ah I wasn't sure if I could throw them out,' he replied hesitantly.

'Why exactly would you want to keep them Potter,' Snape drawled.

With that Snape stalked past Harry and gathered the clothes up before ushering him downstairs. He left Harry in the kitchen with his dinner whilst he proceeded to the laundry where he stuffed the rags into a bin bag. He decided he would dump them in a muggle bin when he next got a chance. He looked in on Potter to ensure he was eating before retiring to his own room.

XXXX

Snape heard Harry make his own way to bed not long after, but immersed in his own work he left the boy alone. It was much later when a disturbance stopped Snape. He quietly put down his quill before pocketing his wand and moving out onto the shadowy landing. The house was in darkness but he could hear someone muttering down the hall. Potter's door was slightly ajar and Snape did not hesitate to push it open. The boy was in bed but appeared to be in the grip of some dream. His sheets were twisted, as though he'd tried to get up, whilst his right hand was searching the air around him.

'Just a bit further...' the boy muttered.

Harry's breathing increased as though he were running. Snape stepped forward hastily and somewhat roughly shook the boy, bringing him out of his dream.

'Wha...' Harry spluttered, '...what time is it?' The boy looked around blearily clearly unsure of where he was.

'Easy Potter,' Snape muttered, studying the boy closely.

He was sure that whatever Potter had been dreaming about had not been a normal dream.

'Look at me,' Snape intoned, instantly gaining Harry's attention.

Snape stared into the wide green eyes before silently intoning _Legilimens_. Instantly he found himself in Harry's thoughts. Snape recognised the Department of Mysteries and a feeling of unease settled in the pit of his stomach. He withdrew from Harry's mind, deep in thought, and distractedly seated himself on the edge of Harry's bed.

Harry watched as Snape sat down on the edge of his bed, deep in thought. He'd felt Snape's presence inside his mind and realised with some trepidation that the man had seen his dream. A small part of him was annoyed that Snape had disturbed him when he had. Harry had been so close to reaching his goal. He still wasn't sure what it was he was searching for but some part of him was determined to reach the sphere he was so focused on. He'd been metres away from his goal when Snape had roughly shaken him awake. Harry realised then he must have called out loud to have brought Snape to his bedside.

'How often do you have that dream?'

Snape's voice cut into his thoughts and Harry was surprised by how weary Snape sounded. He was still seated on Harry's bed staring at the wall. Harry's silence however caused the man to look over at him and Harry could see that the weariness reached his eyes.

'Umm...only a few times since I've been here,' Harry replied.

Snape merely nodded, although he frowned somewhat at Harry's answer – as though he hadn't expected it.

'How much do you remember of Occlumency Potter?' Snape finally asked.

Harry flushed at Snape's words and was unable to hold the man's gaze as he answered.

'Enough to know that I'm not supposed to have these dreams,' Harry mumbled.

Snape said nothing, which only made Harry feel worse. He felt as though he'd let the man down. Snape let out a sigh and Harry saw the man was back to staring at the wall again.

'I should not have stopped giving you lessons,' Snape began. 'You have seen far more than you should have. As such, we shall resume Occlumency lessons immediately.'

Harry felt like a right idiot. He'd known studying Occlumency was important although he recalled very little of the actual content of the lessons. He had the vaguest sense that they'd been rather unpleasant evenings spent with Snape. Still he was willing to try again now. Besides it couldn't be much worse than the memory sessions he already had with Snape, he thought to himself.

'Sorry sir,' Harry murmured quietly. 'I knew they were important but I don't remember much about the lessons yet.'

Snape seemed rather bemused by Harry's apology and let out a somewhat humourless laugh.

'For once Potter, the blame lies solely with me,' Snape admitted.

And so it did, he mused to himself. Snape cursed to himself that he had not thought to check if Potter was still having visions. As it was, the boy had seen far too much already. Admittedly he did not know what he had seen but Snape worried at what Potter would have seen if he had not woken him when he did. Albus would not be impressed, Snape thought to himself. He went to stand but Potter stopped him.

'Sir,' Harry began hesitantly. 'I don't remember much but I know I'm supposed to clear my mind before I sleep.' The boy looked to him for affirmation and Snape nodded slowly, curious as to where Potter was going with this.

'I don't know how to though sir...' Harry paused for a moment before summoning his courage.

'Could you help me sir?'

Snape appeared to be stunned by Harry's request.

'Just for tonight sir...' Harry trailed off unsurely, thrown by Snape's reaction.

Snape remained frozen for a moment longer before nodding his ascent.

It was the boy's blasted eyes, Snape fumed silently. Unguarded as they were Snape had found himself unable to ignore the boy's beseeching look. Potter could have no idea just how similar he looked to his mother in that moment. Snape did not say anything for a moment, thinking of how best to describe clearing one's mind to the boy. He had never had any trouble shutting out the outside world, but he knew Potter would struggle. So he settled for a simple technique he'd used when he was younger than Potter, when all hell had broken loose at Spinner's End and a seven year old Severus Snape needed to forget what was happening to him.

'Close your eyes Potter,' Snape said quietly.

He did not look at the boy, instead focusing on the wall of his old room. If the boy wanted to do this he needed to do it alone. Snape could only act as a guide. For Harry to truly master the ability, he would need to find it on his own.

Harry didn't move for a moment. He'd never been very comfortable with closing his eyes in the presence of another person. He looked at Snape once more, but the man was staring fixedly at the wall, his thoughts elsewhere and Harry knew that Snape could only help him so much with this. But for Snape to help him, Harry needed to trust the man and so he closed his eyes. A moment later Snape's calm voice washed over him, and he found himself obeying Snape's instructions.

'Focus on your breathing,' Snape continued calmly. 'Listen to yourself breathe in and out...relax Potter; slow your breaths until you feel calm.' He paused until Harry was taking slow deep breaths.

'Now listen to the sound of your heart...concentrate on that only...block out everything else until all you can hear is your heart...block out the sound of your breathing and even my voice and simply focus on the sound of your heart beating...'

Snape continued to talk but Harry no longer listened. He was focused entirely on listening to the sound of his own heart beat. Without even realising it Harry drifted off to sleep, his mind blissfully clear.

Snape heard the shift in Harry's breathing and calmly stopped speaking. Pulling his thoughts back to the present he turned to the boy. He was breathing evenly, clearly deeply asleep. Snape stood slowly, noticing that the boy's sheets were still twisted around him from when Snape had woken him. Without hesitating Snape gently untangled the boy and quietly covered him with his sheets. In a moment of madness he instinctively reached forward and gently carded his hand through the boy's mop of hair. Realising what he was doing Snape stiffened, pulling his hand away abruptly and shoving it in his pocket. Turning on his heel he left the room, unsure of what he'd just done.

XXXX

Harry entered the sitting room apprehensively. Snape was seated calmly in his armchair, immersed in an old text. He looked up as he heard Harry entered and closed his book with an audible snap. Putting it in its place on the shelf, Snape turned to face Harry.

'Have a seat Potter,' Snape said dryly, indicating the sofa.

Snape smirked as he watched Harry nervously fiddle with the cuffs of his shirt.

'Honestly Potter, anyone would think you were facing your own death. Stop fiddling with your shirt and pay attention,' Snape admonished, but Harry could tell the man was more amused than annoyed.

'The only way to learn Occlumency effectively is through practice. I will actively attempt to enter your mind and search it. You are to resist me, and ultimately lock me out of your mind. I want your full attention on the task at hand Potter. A few weeks ago I witnessed that you are not as inept at Occlumency as I once thought. You were unwittingly able to employ Occlumency against me and in doing so effectively push me out of your mind.'

Snape gestured for Harry to face him before withdrawing his wand from his robes and facing the boy.

'_Legilimens!_'

XXXX

Harry entered his room, annoyed at both Snape and himself. They'd spent nearly an hour working on Occlumency with very little to show for it. As the session had progressed tempers had flared, with both Snape and Harry baiting each other. It seemed the lessons were rather similar to those he'd taken at school. As such, Snape had fallen back on his failsafe insults which Harry had endured stoutly. Eventually Harry had dismissed himself after a particularly heated discussion over James Potter. As he climbed into bed he wondered just when Snape would forget James Potter. What Snape hoped to gain by holding a grudge against a man who'd been dead for fourteen years, Harry could not fathom.

XXXX

Snape heard Harry reach the landing, and scowled to himself. The boy would be the death of him, he thought to himself. The Occlumency lesson had been wretched. Potter's inability to grasp even the basics of Occlumency had driven Snape to distraction. The experience had been far too similar to those lessons undertaken at Hogwarts, and Snape had felt himself losing his composure. He'd stupidly snapped at the boy igniting Harry's own temper, which had already been fuelled by the boy's own frustrations. The session had gone downhill from there with Snape unable to stop himself from insulting the boy's father. He reflected on what Harry had told him sadly before leaving the room.

'_I think I should go to bed now sir, we're not getting anywhere with all this arguing.' He'd paused then before leaving and Severus had seen the indecision on the boy's face._

'_There's something I want to say before I go...my father might not have been perfect, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't insult him to my face. He's still my dad...regardless of what he did to you.'_

And then the boy had turned and left, leaving a speechless Snape behind. Just when Harry Potter had grown up, he could not recall but he felt ashamed for his own behaviour. He made his own way upstairs, deciding he would do his best to limit the insults. After all Snape knew very well now that Harry Potter was very different from the James Potter he had grown up with.

XXXX

Harry entered the kitchen early on Wednesday morning, obviously still half asleep. Snape looked up from his coffee bemused by the boy's dishevelled state. Harry yawned widely as he pulled the cereal towards him. He'd stayed up late studying the night before and he was paying for it now. He'd suddenly realised that his OWLs were in under a month now and he felt woefully underprepared. Admittedly he had re-learnt the majority of his coursework and Snape had kept him up to date, but they'd been forced to learn at such a fast pace that Harry felt sure he'd forgotten half of it.

'What kept you up so late?' Snape asked from behind his paper.

'Studying,' Harry replied between mouthfuls of cereal.

A sound at the window distracted Harry and he looked over to see Hedwig. He stood hastily and clumsily opened the window so that she could get in. She spared Harry a brief look before fluttering past him and landing on the back of Snape's chair. The man looked surprised for a moment at the sight of the owl before casually reaching out a hand and stroking her.

'Hedwig,' Snape murmured in greeting.

Hedwig preened at that and proudly extended her leg to Snape, offering him his letter. Harry couldn't help but laugh at the sight before him. Snape scowled across at Harry, but it didn't reach the man's eyes which were alight with amusement. Snape deftly untied the scroll and set to reading it. Hedwig launched herself across the table to Harry, greeting him fondly before accepting some of his cereal. Harry let out another laugh at Hedwig's antics as she flew out the window, no doubt flying up to roost in Harry's room. He stopped laughing though when he noticed Snape.

Snape's demeanour had changed completely. He was scowling at the scroll before him and a dark look had entered the man's eyes. Harry looked over at the letter and thought the writing looked familiar but he couldn't recall who it belonged to. He wondered why Snape was still scowling at the letter, when it clearly only contained two sentences.

'Who's that from?' Harry asked nonchalantly.

Snape looked up, considering Harry's question as he carefully placed the folded letter in an inner pocket.

'It does not concern you Harry,' he said quietly, before taking his coffee and leaving the room.

XXXX

It was late Friday evening and Harry was studying in the sitting room. Snape had been distant and distracted since he'd received the mysterious letter. Harry was still curious about the contents but he hadn't questioned Snape again. Harry skimmed through his history of magic notes as he watched Snape over the top of his book. Snape was reading a book but Harry noted he was on the same page he'd been on twenty minutes ago. Every few minutes the man's eyes would dart to the mantelpiece clock and Harry got the feeling that Snape was very much on edge this evening. Whatever the letter had said Harry was sure it was going to happen tonight. He noticed it was close to eleven. Snape must really be distracted if he'd let him stay up this late, Harry thought to himself. Grabbing his school bag he left the room quietly and made his own way upstairs. Now all he had to do was wait.

XXXX

It was past midnight when the fireplace roared to life, depositing a travel worn Albus Dumbledore onto Snape's hearthrug.

'Good evening Severus,' Albus said politely as he studied his Potion's master.

'Albus,' Snape replied tersely, closing the book he had been distracting himself with.

'I can only stay for a moment Severus, but I need to discuss Harry with you,' Dumbledore explained hurriedly. 'Has he regained his memory?'

'He has regained the majority of it,' Snape began slowly.

'Enough to sit his OWLs?' Dumbledore cut in seriously.

'I believe so.'

Dumbledore seemed pleased by Snape's words and a tired smile flitted across his face.

'I must say I am impressed Severus,' he said warmly. 'I had concerns that you might not be able to look past James Potter's features, but it would seem you have.' Snape stiffened at the man's words but Dumbledore did not seem to notice.

'Very well,' Dumbledore continued, his tone becoming serious again, 'Harry shall return to Hogwarts Monday week. Minerva shall collect him from the Hogs Head if you'd be kind enough to floo him there Severus. I believe Minerva has told Dolores that he has taken bereavement leave. I trust you'll be able to come up with a cover story for the boy?' he finished quickly.

His blue eyes pierced Snape waiting for confirmation. Snape complied and Albus moved towards the fireplace.

'And what of me Albus?'

Snape's voice stopped Dumbledore and he turned towards the disgruntled man.

'You cannot return to the school when Harry does Severus,' Albus said calmly. 'You will return for the final teaching week before OWLs.'

Again Dumbledore turned to leave but Snape's words stopped him dead.

'Albus, please,' Snape began angrily. 'I cannot stay here for an extra week.'

Dumbledore did not turn back this time.

'I'm afraid you must Severus.'

As he stepped into the fireplace he looked over the man before him, sorrow in his eyes.

'You'll manage,' he said quietly. 'You always have Severus.'

With that he disappeared in the green flames.

XXXX

He did not see the man's careful mask break; did not see the hurt in the man's eyes, as he let his head fall into his hands – an action of defeat and hopelessness.

But someone did.

'Are you alright sir?'

XXXX

**A/N:** Thanks for all the reviews everyone! So, this is when the dates start to become a bit crazy. I'm pretty much just working on the assumption that the last Quidditch match is the 25/26 May 1996 (last weekend). Anyway we'll be getting back to Hogwarts soon and of course the end is getting closer! Hope you all enjoy this chapter. Until next time!


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13 _11th - 15th May, 1996_

'Shouldn't you be asleep?' Snape asked dryly, not looking up from his hands.

Harry did not answer immediately, instead moving slowly into the room and taking a seat on the sofa opposite Snape.

'Yes, but I wanted to see if you were okay,' Harry answered frankly.

If Snape was surprised by Harry's words he did not show it.

'I heard what the Headmaster said,' Harry continued into the silence.

Snape's breath hitched a little at that but the man remained motionless.

'I'm sorry you have to stay here.'

Harry paused for a moment, contemplating his next words. 'I know what it's like...I hate spending my summers at Privet Drive. I couldn't imagine having to stay at Privet Drive once I'm finished school...I am sorry' he finished lamely.

Silence fell once more. Harry wasn't sure how long it lasted, but just as he was considering going up to bed he heard Snape stir. The man looked up, resting his head on top of his hands, contemplating Harry. Harry met his gaze steadily, surprised by how unguarded it was. Dumbledore's words seemed to have thrown the man into a world of hurt and bitterness.

'What are you apologising for?' Snape asked guardedly, his tone weary.

Harry was rather surprised by the question, he thought it was obvious as to why he'd apologised.

'Because you're only here because of me...' he began hesitantly. 'If I hadn't lost my memory we'd both still be at Hogwarts.'

Snape gave Harry the strangest look, as though he found the words ironic. A bitter smile twisted the man's lips before he replied.

'No Harry,' he said quietly, 'it is very much my _own _fault that we are here.'

Harry wasn't sure what Snape meant but before he could question the man further he was speaking once again.

'I suggest you go to bed now,' Snape began wearily.

Harry made to stand up but Snape stopped him.

'A word of caution before you go, Harry; eavesdropping is a bad habit. You never know what you might hear, but most of the time it would have been better if you had never heard it. Particularly if it was never meant for your ears in the first place,' he trailed off quietly.

His tone was not admonishing but Harry got the feeling he truly meant what he said. Nodding in understanding Harry made to leave. As he reached the door he turned back to Snape.

'Promise me you won't do anything stupid while you're here alone.'

The words sounded clumsy, but Harry meant them. He'd been shocked at how easily Dumbledore had condemned the man. Harry had seen first-hand just how badly this house affected Snape.

Snape stared at him in shock; astounded by Harry's words. It warmed him to know that at least one person seemed to give a damn about the wellbeing of Severus Snape. The last person to extract a similar promise from him had been Lily, he thought sadly. Harry could not know how much he was his mother's son.

'You have my word Harry,' Snape said solemnly.

A rare smile graced Snape's lips as he studied the teenager before him.

'Now off to bed or I'll never be able to wake you,' Snape said lightly.

Harry shot him an impish grin before disappearing up the stairs. Snape's smile slipped as he heard Harry enter his room, his thoughts returning to his conversation with Dumbledore, contemplating what the future held for him.

XXXX

Snape watched as Harry pushed his breakfast around his plate for the third time that morning. He let out an exasperated sigh before folding his newspaper and addressing the boy.

'Are you going to tell me what's on your mind, or shall I sit here all day?' he asked sardonically.

Harry looked up startled, fixing Snape with a serious gaze.

'What happens when we get back to Hogwarts?'

'What do you mean?' Snape asked.

He knew what the boy was asking but he stalled, unsure of how his answer would be received.

'You know what I mean,' Harry said impatiently. 'We're not the same anymore. So what happens when we get back to school? Does everything go back to how it was?'

'No Harry,' Snape cut in, surprised by how vehemently Harry had voiced his concerns. 'Even if I were to wish it, things can never go back to how they were.'

Harry made to interrupt but Snape stopped him, speaking seriously.

'However, you know that I must retain a certain,' he paused considering the best word to describe his Death Eater role, '_reputation_. My attitude towards you must not appear to have changed in the slightest. It would be both our lives and more if the Dark Lord ever suspected that I considered you as anything more than the hateful spawn of James Potter.'

A look of hurt crossed Harry's face before the boy managed to conceal it.

'If you'll excuse me sir, I think I'll go get my books,' Harry said stiffly, standing to leave the room.

Snape raised an eyebrow, aware that the boy had taken his words the wrong way.

'Sit down Harry,' Snape said gruffly, as the boy made to leave.

Harry complied slowly, seating himself before staring blankly at Snape.

'Sir?' he questioned innocently.

'You know very well why I asked you to sit down,' Snape said sternly. 'Now, are you going to tell me yourself, or shall I voice your thoughts for you, hmm?'

Harry made no reply, although Snape was satisfied to see the boy flush slightly at his words.

'You're angry because you think that I will simply abandon you at Hogwarts, despite how things have changed these past weeks. Pray tell, which part of my explanation implanted that foolish notion within your head?'

He waited for an answer but Harry did not speak.

'As I thought,' Snape continued. 'Allow me to dissuade you of those notions presently. In the company of _others_ I must act as I always have towards you. Whatever I say to you in class Harry, _whatever,' _Snape stressed, 'you must act as you always have.'

'So,' Harry began cautiously, 'we can still talk outside of class?'

'If that is what you want,' Snape said detachedly, trying to appear indifferent.

In reality he was anything but indifferent to Harry's response. He had become used to Harry's presence, and enjoyed talking with the boy. Besides there was still a lot he needed to discuss with Harry. He knew Harry was still having nightmares occasionally, and despite having Harry talk about the Dursleys regularly the boy had yet to admit that his guardians had abused him. It was somewhat of a sore point between the pair which Snape was determined to resolve. After all Snape appeared to be the only person Harry had ever opened up to about his past.

'Yes,' Harry replied fiercely.

It seemed to Harry as though there were no other adults in his life whom he could depend upon. Mr and Mrs Weasley had their own children to worry about, and the Dursleys were next to useless. Once he might have considered Dumbledore, but the Headmaster had ignored him for the better part of a year. Harry had the sense that there _was_ someone in his life that cared very much about his wellbeing, but whoever they were he could not recall them.

As bizarre as it seemed, Snape provided a sense of stability that Harry had long felt to have been lacking in his life. Here, at Spinner's End, he'd been able to talk to Snape about anything and the man had listened and given him advice. Harry knew it was childish, but he wanted it to stay that way at Hogwarts, as improbable as it seemed. Still, Snape seemed willing enough to accommodate and so for one of the few times in his life Harry allowed himself to get his hopes up that for once something would go the way he wanted it to.

'Very well,' Snape said briskly, 'if you have urgent need of me you can come to my office anytime, day or night. My private quarters are adjacent to my office so I will hear you if I am there. Aside from that I intend to reinstate our Occlumency lessons when I am back at Hogwarts. I will expect you in my office on Monday and Wednesday evenings. We can discuss arrangements further the week I get back to Hogwarts.'

'Thanks sir,' Harry said quietly, smiling at the man opposite him.

Snape nodded in return before gathering his newspaper and hiding himself behind it once again. It was not a perfect solution, he thought to himself as he feigned interest in the _Prophet_, but it was the best he could do presently. Undoubtedly things would become clearer once they returned to Hogwarts. After all, back in the company of his friends Snape thought it unlikely that Harry would ever feel the need to call on him. To Snape's surprise that thought hurt him more than he'd care to admit. Scowling to himself he roughly gathered his newspaper and left for the sitting room, hoping to get his thoughts in order before Harry's lesson.

XXXX

Harry drained his cup of tea before carefully placing it on the table next to the sofa. He glanced over at Snape, but the Professor was still preoccupied with marking Harry's essays. Harry withdrew his wand from his school bag before returning his attention to his tea cup. Quietly he tapped the cup, muttering the charm he'd learnt earlier that day under his breath. Again the tea cup sprouted four stumpy legs and Harry let his breath out in frustration. He was supposed to be charming the cup to jog, but with the legs he kept producing he'd be lucky if his cup ever managed to walk. Cancelling the charm he tried again, changing his pronunciation slightly.

'Yes!' Harry exclaimed, forgetting where he was. The legs he'd charmed were still stocky but they were long enough now that his cup was able to walk, albeit rather slowly.

'C'mon,' Harry muttered under his breath, encouraging the cup to make it across the table.

'Harry,' Snape began exasperatedly, distracted from his marking by Harry's cheering. 'Did you just copy straight from your History of Magic textbook?'

'Huh?' he answered absentmindedly, thoroughly distracted by the progress his cup was making. He spared Snape only a glance before turning back to his cup.

Snape scowled darkly at the teenagers back before addressing him again in an irritated tone.

'Potter,' Snape growled, gaining the boy's attention immediately. 'I asked whether you used your textbook when completing the History work I set you.'

'Err...' Harry began slowly, shifting uneasily.

'Yeah a bit,' he admitted upon seeing Snape's eyebrow rise at his incoherent answer.

'A bit,' Snape repeated sarcastically. He picked up the essay, which Harry noted had a good deal of red ink on it, and read out a paragraph.

'_The original Statute of Secrecy was written to encompass only witches and wizards, forbidding a witch or wizard from revealing the presence of the magical world to muggles. Other magical beings were not included in the Statute, given the political climate at the time (see page 134). The most significant amendment to the Statute occurred in 1749 when a vampire...'_

'You didn't say I couldn't look up the answers,' Harry cut in, embarrassed by what Snape had read out.

'Yes, but I didn't expect you to copy paragraphs word for word from the textbook,' Snape admonished.

The man sighed, putting Harry's essay down as he did so.

'Harry,' he began, 'your OWLs are in three weeks. You should be answering these questions mostly from memory by now. Your fine with your other subjects, it seems to be just History of Magic you're struggling with.'

Snape paused for a moment, studying the abashed teen before him.

'You can use your text to check dates,' he relented, 'but you need to start practising recalling this information without the aid of your textbook. Does that sound reasonable?'

CRASH

Harry turned around startled, searching for the source of the noise. It was immediately obvious though as to what had happened. It seemed his tea cup had valiantly continued to cross the table whilst Snape had been speaking to him. Just now it had reached the other side and gallantly marched over the edge, crashing to its doom. Harry turned back to Snape expecting the Professor to berate him for ruining his cup. Instead he found an amused Snape studying him.

'It seems you are on the way to perfecting that charm then Mr Potter,' Snape said seriously.

Harry raised an eyebrow at Snape's statement, which seemed to push the man over the edge. Snape let out a laugh and Harry joined him, relieving the tension that had been hanging over the house since Dumbledore's visit.

'Sorry sir,' Harry managed eventually, as he repaired the broken cup.

'Next time, might I suggest you keep a closer eye on your cup,' Snape replied, still smiling as he turned back to his marking.

Harry smirked at the man before placing the cup on the table and charming it once again; though he did keep a closer eye on it this time.

XXXX

Snape fiddled with the cusp of his robe as he stopped outside Harry's room. The boy was seated at his desk, studying intently. Snape cleared his throat quietly, alerting Potter to his presence. Harry turned in his chair, taking in Snape's change of clothing, frowning slightly in response.

'I'm going to an Order meeting,' Snape explained. 'I'll be back in a few hours.'

'Okay,' Harry said, turning back to his books.

Snape lingered a moment longer in the doorway, before turning on his heel and striding down the stairs. Locking the front door, he turned on the spot disapparating to Grimmauld Place.

XXXX

As soon as Harry heard the front door lock he dropped his quill, moving straight to his trunk. He pulled out his Invisibility Cloak, stuffing it beneath his jumper, before grabbing his wand and making his way downstairs. Silently he entered the sitting room, making straight for the concealed doorway. Last time the door had been slightly ajar, easy to identify from the bookcase. Now it was firmly shut and it took Harry several minutes to locate. With his wand tip lit he examined where he thought the latch would be, searching for the means to open the door. It took a while but eventually he was rewarded by a slight groan as the door moved on its hinges, granting entry to the stairway it concealed.

Confidently he took the stairs, pausing only to open the door at the top. The room was exactly as he remembered it; empty except for the numerous boxes which were placed haphazardly around the room. The boxes Snape had searched were easily discernible, their contents strewn across the floor. Snape had obviously not been back to the room. The thought struck Harry as strange, given how insistently the man had been searching the boxes. Still, he realised it would reduce his own search by half, given he could ignore the boxes Snape had turned over in his drunken search.

Harry had decided the night Snape had refused to answer his questions that he would need to find the answers himself. He was sure that this room held the answer to some of his questions. Tonight was the first time Snape had left the house since that evening and Harry had not hesitated to put his plan into action. Now that he was standing on the threshold of the room though, his conscience held him back. Regardless of his good intentions he knew Snape would not appreciate Harry being in this room. He almost considered turning back but his curiosity had been piqued. There was something about the room that drew Harry in, and almost against his will he found himself approaching one of the boxes.

Slowly he opened the box, allowing the light from his wand to reveal the contents. Harry let out a sigh of disappointment as he realised the box simply held clothes. Still he paused for a moment looking more closely at the clothes. They were a workman's clothes he noted; coarse button down shirts, slacks, braces, and several pairs of overalls stamped with an insignia, proclaiming the wearer a miller. Snape's father must have worked at the disused mill Harry realised. It was odd to think the Head of Slytherin was the son of a miller. Carefully he closed the box, moving onto another.

Systematically Harry worked through several more boxes. One box held several tattered and well worn dresses, along with an assortment of other items which Harry guessed all belonged to Snape's mother. Other boxes held muggle items including several books, which clearly held no interest for Snape.

There were only a few boxes left when Harry came across it. At first he'd thought it was another box full of muggle books. He'd been about to turn away from the box when he'd caught sight of the title of the topmost book: _Magick Moste Evile_. Curious, he'd pulled out the stack of books to examine them. A feeling of unease had settled over Harry as he realised that all of the books were about the Dark Arts. He'd had the sudden desire to get out of the room as quickly as he could then. Just as he was about to shove the books back into the box he'd seen it. Without a doubt he knew he'd found what Snape had been searching for.

It lay at the bottom of the box, a simple muggle photo. Discarding the books Harry reached for the photo. Curiously it was surrounded by an assortment of objects; pebbles, figurines, a pressed flower, and what could have once been a friendship bracelet. Harry didn't look too closely at the items, distracted as he was. Still he found it a truly odd collection of items but realised they must have meant something to Snape if he'd kept them all these years. Gently he pulled the photo out, careful not to disturb the other objects.

Before he could examine the photo properly he heard the front door open. Harry cursed to himself as he heard Snape make his way up to his room. He looked at his watch and realised he'd only been searching for an hour. He'd planned to be back in bed well and truly before Snape returned but it seemed Snape's meeting had been far shorter than he'd anticipated. Without pausing to think he quickly placed the books back in the box, shutting the lid as he did so. As silently as he could he stood and made his way to the door, the photograph still clutched in his hand. Quietly he shut the door behind him before pulling out his cloak. He'd brought it along for just this reason.

XXXX

Snape shut the front door behind him, making straight for his room. The Order meeting had been a complete waste of time he thought sourly. Black had taken vindictive pleasure in expounding on Snape's usefulness as a spy when he'd been unable to report anything new to Dumbledore. He'd returned Black's insults with equal fervour, although he was aware that Sirius had hit the nail on the head. The last time he had been summoned the Dark Lord had said next to nothing about his intentions regarding the Prophecy. It seemed he had given the job to Bellatrix and Lucius. He'd approached Lucius but the man had remained tight-lipped, much to Severus' frustration. The fact that the Dark Lord seemed quietly confident that Harry would be collecting the Prophecy for him, and soon, only added to Snape's unease. Perhaps Black was right to question his position as a spy, Snape thought pessimistically as he entered his room to discard his robes.

The house was oddly quiet he realised as he left his room. It wasn't late so he was somewhat surprised Harry hadn't greeted him. The boy had taken to spending his free time with Snape, much to Snape's own amusement. He wasn't sure what Harry's motives were but he'd become used to having the teenager around. He approached Harry's bedroom, intending to look in on the boy but found the room empty, much to his surprise.

'Harry?' he called as he made his way downstairs.

He hadn't thought anyone was downstairs when he'd come in. A sense of unease overcame him as he found both the kitchen and dining room empty. Where is the boy, he thought to himself as he entered the sitting room. The light was on but the room was empty.

XXXX

Harry was making his way down the stairs as silently as he could when he heard Snape call his name. Cursing to himself he reached the concealed door as he heard Snape enter the kitchen. It took him several seconds of fumbling to find the latch, but he managed to get the door open just as he heard Snape leave the dining room. He'd just shut the door when a concerned looking Snape stepped into the sitting room. Harry stood rooted to the spot as the man scanned the room, his brow furrowing as he perceived the room to be empty. It was then that Harry realised he'd brought the photograph downstairs with him. He almost cursed aloud at that but managed to stop himself. He forgot all about Snape as unconsciously he lifted the photo to examine it properly.

The photo was taken out the front of a house Harry did not recognise. Two children stood together; a boy and a girl. The face was younger and less careworn but Harry recognised the boy immediately as a young Severus Snape. Harry noted Snape's mismatched clothes, reminding him of the clothes the Dursleys had given him. Snape was smiling though and Harry realised with a start that it was the happiest he had ever seen the man. Curious he turned his attention to the girl he was pictured with. She was smiling radiantly at the camera, a look of pure joy on her face. Unlike Snape she was well dressed and looked truly at ease. There was something familiar about her face Harry realised, as though he instinctively knew who she was, but had simply forgotten her name.

Without really thinking he flipped the photo over and felt his heart jump as he found the inscription.

_Dear Sev,_

_Merry Christmas! I asked Mum to develop the photos from summer, this one was my favourite. I know it's only a Muggle photo but I've got a copy as well. I love magic but I think this photo is perfect as it is. I always want to remember that you were the first to tell me about our world._

_Love from,_

_Lily xx _

_Christmas 1971 _

Suddenly he knew who the girl in the photo was. In his haste to flip the photo, his cloak shifted and for an instant his hand was visible. Realising what he'd done Harry looked up in horror to see that Snape had seen. With a growing sense of dread Harry realised the man had worked it out as he saw Snape's eyes flick to the concealed doorway and back to where Harry stood. He watched as the blood drained from the man's face.

XXXX

Snape had been about to cast a revealing spell when he'd seen Potter's hand appear briefly in mid air. For a moment he'd been confused, but his encounters with Harry Potter over the years meant he recognised the apparition for what it was. Potter was under his infernal invisibility cloak, which meant the boy had obviously been up to something. He looked over at the concealed doorway, it was shut but that meant nothing. Snape felt the blood drain from his face as he realised what Harry had been doing. He couldn't say he was surprised, the boy was far too curious for his own good. Much like his mother had been, he thought to himself. Wearily he seated himself on the sofa.

'You can take that cloak off now Potter,' he said tiredly.

As expected the boy materialised right where Snape had thought him to be. Curiously the boy didn't say anything instead moving to sit on the sofa with Snape an odd expression on his face. Potter seated himself and Snape felt the boy staring at him intently, yet he ignored him trying to calm himself. He needed to keep his temper under control this time.

'She's my mother, isn't she?' the boy asked quietly.

XXXX

**A/N:** My apologies for the late posting. I got caught up preparing for a concert and managed to get sick when I'd planned to finish this chapter. Hopefully the next will be along very soon! Thanks to all my faithful reviewers and readers, you guys are amazing. Until next time :) Oh by the way, I made up that excerpt from the History textbook, I have no idea why they amended the Statute of Secrecy in 1749, I hope it sounds somewhat possible haha.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14 _15th - 19th May, 1996_

Instinctively, Snape knew what it was the boy had found, yet he could not stop himself from looking. He turned to find Potter gazing at the photo Lily had given him for Christmas – a lifetime ago. His anger dissipated when he saw the yearning with which the boy studied his mother's face. His own gaze was drawn to her as he answered the boy.

'Yes,' Snape said simply.

Potter was quite for a long time, studying the photo with renewed vigour. Snape did not interrupt him, his own thoughts a thousand miles away.

'People tell me I have her eyes,' Harry said quietly as he handed the photo back to Snape. 'But I was never sure.'

Snape stared at the boy uncomfortably. What could he possibly say to something like that? It seemed Harry didn't need him to say anything though. The pair sat in silence for an immeasurable time, until Harry broke it once more.

'You didn't tell me you were friends with my mum before Hogwarts,' he said calmly.

'No,' Snape replied after a moment's consideration.

'Were you ever going to tell me?'

The question was innocent enough but Snape understood that if he answered truthfully he would be opening a door that could not be closed again. And so he settled for a half truth.

'Before this,' he said, gesturing around the room, '...no. Now...I don't know.'

Harry nodded in acceptance, as though he had expected Snape's answer. Snape wondered what the boy was thinking as he sat quietly staring at the ground.

Harry's thoughts were tumultuous as he warred with himself. He desperately wanted to ask Snape more about his mother but his conscience reminded him that he'd deliberately disobeyed Snape on the premise of helping the man. So it was that Harry found himself holding back his questions on his mother, as much as he wished to ask them. After all it seemed the photo had calmed Snape somewhat and Harry thought that perhaps this time he'd manage to talk to the man properly.

'That room,' Harry gestured towards the concealed doorway, 'it's your parent's isn't it?'

Snape said nothing, instead staring at the photograph as though he could block out Harry's question.

'You blocked it off though,' Harry said calmly, continuing as though Snape had answered. 'You didn't destroy their belongings though. You simply packed them all up and locked them away up there, where you didn't have to see them.'

Snape looked over at Harry at that, his expression unguarded, a queer smile twisting his lips.

'Why do you insist on asking these questions?' Snape asked quietly, his voice oddly constrained. 'What possible reason could you have, to _want _to know what happened in this house?' He stared beseechingly at Harry for a moment before continuing tiredly. 'It's all in the past now, far better that it should stay there undisturbed.'

Snape had expected the boy to at least consider his words but it seemed Harry already had an answer.

'I'll tell you my reasons,' the boy said shrewdly, 'and if they aren't good enough, I give you my word that I will never ask you about your past again.'

Snape nodded stiffly in response, intrigued by Harry's proposal. He was honestly surprised that Harry seemed so determined to talk about him. He'd expected to have to deal with questions about his friendship with Lily, but it seemed Harry did not want those answers presently. Snape did not doubt that the boy would ask someday though, and he would have to be prepared to give some answer – it was the least he owed her son, he thought sadly.

'When I was first here,' Harry began after a short pause, 'I hated that you kept asking me to talk about the Dursleys and Cedric. I didn't want to be pitied and I didn't want you to be able to use my past against me. It took me a while but I finally realised that wasn't what you were doing. You were simply listening to me. You were allowing me to talk my own way through it and by doing that I came to terms with it on my own. Which is what I needed...and I think that's what you need as well.'

Harry looked up at him then and Snape saw that the boy was speaking in earnest.

'I'm offering to listen to you...without judgement,' he finished quietly.

Snape considered him for a moment. Harry was far more insightful than he'd ever given him credit for.

'And why would you want to do that?' he asked sardonically, stalling for time.

'Because I honestly think you'll find it easier next week if you've spoken about what makes you hate this house,' Harry said without hesitating.

'I know I would,' he added quietly when Snape did not answer, his gaze returning to the photo Snape still held.

Snape in turn looked down at Lily and in that moment his decision was made for him. Without conscious thought he began to talk. His gaze never left the photo but Harry understood that Snape was talking to him. And Harry listened. It had been almost twenty years since Severus Snape had last spoken to someone of his childhood but Harry Potter, in his own way, was as good a listener as his mother had once been.

XXXX

It was close to midnight as Harry made his way slowly upstairs. He'd left Snape in the sitting room, still clutching the photo, in a world of his own. Tiredly he made his way into the bathroom, taking in his unkempt look as he brushed his teeth. He would definitely need a haircut before he went back to school. He'd have to ask Snape about getting one in the morning he thought. Too tired for a shower, he simply exchanged his clothes for his pyjamas and got into bed, pulling the covers over his chest. Finally he allowed himself to reflect on the past few hours.

Snape had started speaking slowly without preamble, his tone detached and his voice low. Harry had not pressed Snape once, despite the frequent silent periods that may have tried another's patience. In fact Harry had found the silence somewhat reassuring. It had given him the chance to comprehend the magnitude of what Snape was revealing to him. Instinctively Harry had known Snape was telling him only the briefest of details and had undoubtedly excluded entire parts of his childhood. The man had not named his abuse for what it was but Harry got the impression that as a boy Snape had comprehended what was happening to him and known that it was wrong.

Harry could not help but feel a terrible sense of loss for the child Severus Snape had been. Harry understood now why Snape had locked everything to do with his childhood away. He understood what Snape's parents had done to the boy and why Snape proclaimed he could not forgive them.

He could not help but feel sick though as he recalled the memory of his father, James, punching Snape in the stomach. Snape had said nothing about Harry's father but Harry had not forgotten what he'd seen the time he'd broken through Snape's defences. _How could my father do that?_ He punched his pillows in his silent frustration and disappointment. Snape had had enough in his life without James Potter making matters worse. Harry sighed as he rolled onto his side. He would always love his father unconditionally, regardless of anything he'd done; he just wished he could have known the man.

It was with that thought that Harry drifted towards sleep. He was almost asleep when he felt someone gently tug the sheets around him. Vaguely he realised that someone was tucking him in. He smiled in his sleep, imagining his own father tucking him in as a child. A gentle hand carded through his hair and a whispered 'thank you' followed him into sleep, as the dark figure left the room. In the morning he would recall it only as a distant dream.

XXXX

Snape was perusing a letter when Harry entered the dining room, a proud brown owl at his elbow.

'Professor McGonagall will be meeting you in the Hogs Head on Sunday afternoon,' Snape said in greeting.

He folded the letter stiffly before tucking it into a pocket. Harry pulled his cereal towards him as he watched Snape pen a short note in reply, attaching it to the preening owl with a look of distaste. Harry smirked as the owl hooted indignantly before flying out of the room, intentionally cuffing Snape on the side of the head.

'Bloody school owls,' Snape muttered under his breath.

Harry swallowed his laughter at the man's antics as a question occurred to him.

'So you're going to floo me to the Hogs Head?' Harry asked unsurely. 'I thought you couldn't be seen with me – '

'We'll be flooing into Aberforth's private rooms,' Snape cut in. 'He's the barman,' Snape added exasperatedly at Harry's confused look. 'The only person who will see us together is Minerva, and as a member of the Order she understands discretion.'

'Okay,' Harry agreed, spooning cereal into his mouth. 'What do I say when I get back to school though?'

Snape eyed him distastefully and Harry realised he'd been speaking with his mouth open.

'Sorry,' he said, his cheeks reddening.

Snape rolled his eyes before reaching for his coffee cup.

'You have been away due to family circumstances,' Snape answered as he set his cup down. 'You spent the holidays with your family, at the end of which there was a sudden and unexpected death of a close family member, an aunt. Said family member lived in Australia. You have spent the last four weeks in Australia where your family saw to the affairs of the late relative. You have only just returned to England.'

'Err...how often have students spent a month away from school?'

'It has happened before,' Snape replied briskly. 'The school generally makes allowances for extenuating circumstances. Professor McGonagall, as Head of Gryffindor, dutifully informed the _Headmistress_ of the circumstances surrounding your extended leave of absence when school resumed. It is highly likely though that Umbridge herself will question you when you return to school. I trust you will answer her questions in such a way so as _not _to earn yourself another detention,' Snape said sternly.

'I do not wish to return to Hogwarts to find you have landed yourself in detention with her Harry,' he added warningly when Harry did not respond.

'Okay,' Harry replied hastily. 'I won't let her get to me.'

'See that you don't,' Snape said before returning his attention to his other mail.

Harry finished his breakfast, and grabbed both his and Snape's bowls to wash up. It was as he re-entered the dining room that he realised Snape hadn't said anything about his friends.

'What do I tell Ron and Hermione?' Harry asked as he resumed his seat.

'Surely you have not forgotten what I just told you?' Snape asked sourly.

Harry frowned. 'You mean you want me to tell them what I'm telling Umbridge?'

'Precisely,' Snape said with an air of finality.

'I don't lie to my friends, sir,' Harry said carefully, after a moment of stony silence.

'This is non-negotiable Potter,' Snape growled.

'No,' Harry said stubbornly. Snape raised an eyebrow at that, causing Harry to continue on hastily. 'Besides they'll _know _I'm lying to them. You know what Hermione's like,' he finished sheepishly.

Snape remained unconvinced and Harry knew the man wasn't going to budge on the issue. Of course Harry could tell Ron and Hermione but he didn't want to go behind Snape's back. If he was going to tell them he wanted it to be with Snape's approval.

'Look,' he said sincerely 'all I want to tell them is where I've really been staying. That's all, I swear.'

'Very well Potter,' Snape conceded. 'Your word that you will only tell them what is strictly necessary.'

'Of course sir,' Harry complied immediately, standing and offering his hand to shake on it.

Snape appeared amused for a moment before standing and accepting the proffered hand. Harry smiled as he turned to leave the room.

'Oh I nearly forgot sir,' he said from the doorway. 'Can I get a haircut before I go back to school?'

Snape looked up from his letters, eyes examining Harry's unruly hair critically.

'I'll take you tomorrow,' he said distractedly as he turned back to his mail.

'Thanks,' Harry said as he left the room to grab his school bag.

XXXX

Harry stood near the front door waiting patiently for Snape to come down. Snape had already altered Harry's features to the same sandy-blonde hair and blue eyes he'd sported on their previous shopping trip. Harry looked up as the polyjuiced Snape descended the stairs, tucking a flask into an inner pocket. Without preamble Snape opened the door and followed Harry out, before grapping Harry's arm and turning on the spot.

'I hate apparating,' Harry groused as the world stopped spinning.

Snape simply smirked as he guided Harry out of the alleyway they'd appeared in, leading him towards the Barber shop across the way.

Harry looked around him with interest. They were in a different city this time, although clearly still muggle. It was an early Friday evening and the streets were crowded, as workers eager for the weekend made their way home. A bell tinkled as Snape pushed open the Barbershop door, Harry following him through distractedly. A portly man with a moustache that would rival Uncle Vernon's eagerly approached them.

'What can I do for you sirs?' he asked, attempting to guide Snape toward a chair.

'Just my son for today,' Snape replied tersely as he detached himself from the man, setting him on Harry instead.

'Ah of course, of course,' the barber said, directing Harry to a chair. 'Now, what were you thinking? Young lad like you, I'm sure you'd appreciate some highlights...perhaps a different style – '

'Just a schoolboy cut if you'd be so kind,' Snape cut in abruptly.

Harry, who'd had no idea what the barber had been suggesting, looked over at Snape in relief to find the man highly amused as he impassively flipped through a muggle magazine. Harry shot him a dark look before turning back to the barber as the man selected a number three razor.

XXXX

Harry ran his hand through his short hair for the third time as they left the Barbershop. It was shorter than he was used to but he liked it. It would definitely last him until the summer. He'd never had a muggle haircut before. Normally Mrs Weasley trimmed his hair, along with the rest of her family or he got something done in Hogsmeade during the year. Personally he thought the muggle way was somewhat better than the wizarding counterpart.

Snape watched as the boy fiddled with his hair for the umpteenth time whilst gazing around at the shops with obvious interest as they passed. The insufferable barber had spent so long exclaiming over Harry's hair that the haircut had taken far longer than Snape had expected. It was close to 6pm by the time they'd managed to get away. He watched as the boy's eyes lingered on the take out shops which were beginning to come to life. Without stopping to think, Snape turned to the boy.

'Wait here,' he said directing Harry to a courtesy bench.

With that Snape disappeared into the stream of commuters. Harry sat patiently on the bench, observing the numerous shoppers with interest as they hurried past. Some clutching bags, others clutching petulant children. Suddenly Snape was back, a small package wrapped in butcher's paper by his side. Harry wondered what it was, but Snape did not say. Instead leading Harry back to the alleyway they'd arrived in.

Harry felt the now familiar tightness overtake him for the briefest of seconds as they apparated. As he got his bearing he realised they were not at Spinner's End. A breeze tickled his scalp and an odd roaring sound filled his ears. Even the air was fresher he realised. It was then that he turned, his jaw dropping in shock as he took in the breathtaking sight before him. The horizon stretched before him, unhindered and visible for thousands of miles. Beneath it, roaring and untameable in its vastness was the ocean.

A low chuckle beside him brought Harry back to the present, as he realised his mouth was still open. Snape was watching him, amusement in his gaze, but Harry could tell he was just as affected by the sight before them. There was a light heartedness about Snape that Harry had never seen before.

'I've never seen the sea before,' Harry said as he returned his gaze to the waves crashing against the beach. 'They took our class on an excursion to Brighton once, but I wasn't allowed to go. Dudley spent weeks talking about it afterwards,' he finished wistfully.

He looked over at Snape, who was watching the waves break.

'Thank you,' he said sincerely.

Snape looked at him and for the briefest of moments he smiled genuinely at Harry, before he turned and walked towards a bench overlooking the ocean. Harry followed and watched as Snape unwrapped the package he'd brought with him.

'That wretched barber took far longer than I expected,' Snape explained brusquely, revealing the dinner he'd purchased.

'So that's why we're having fish and chips,' Harry said cheekily.

'Eat your dinner Potter,' Snape answered dryly but Harry could tell he wasn't really annoyed.

XXXX

It was by far the most unorthodox dinner Harry had ever had, but he'd enjoyed every moment of it, he thought as he lay in bed. They hadn't spoken much as they'd eaten but the silence had been companionable. Harry had always wanted to try eating fish and chips by the ocean. Aunt Petunia had always insisted they eat it with plates and cutlery the few times he'd had it before. Harry had always thought that rather ruined the meal. One day, when he was older he'd take his own children for fish and chips he thought as he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

XXXX

Before Harry knew it the weekend had passed and it was Sunday afternoon. Saturday had been spent studying with Snape, who'd given him quite a few useful tips for his OWL studies. He'd then spent most of Sunday morning packing up his trunk. Unbelievably he'd managed to spread his belongings throughout most of the house. He'd spent twenty minutes alone trying to track down his History of Magic textbook, much to Snape's annoyance who had been reading in the sitting room at the time.

Harry now stood with his packed trunk before the fireplace, Hedwig perched on his arm. Snape entered the room wearing his customary black teaching robes. His eyes swept over Harry, as though checking everything was in order, before he nodded and moved towards a small container on the mantelpiece.

'It is likely that Minerva has already arrived,' Snape said briskly. 'You can floo through first with Hedwig and I shall follow with your trunk. Do not forget that we both have an image that _must _be maintained.'

'I know,' Harry said shortly.

Snape had spent the better part of the day reminding him of the roles they both had to play.

'Very well,' Snape said. 'I shall see you six o'clock, next Monday evening.'

Harry nodded and moved to take some of the floo powder Snape was offering him.

'Goodbye sir.'

He was surprised that for once he wasn't excited to be returning to Hogwarts. Never in a million years would he have thought he'd miss spending time with Snape. The six weeks he'd spent at Spinner's End had changed them both though and Harry truly regretted that Voldemort was forcing this farce upon them. Harry had never been good at concealing his feelings; he'd just have to hope Snape was twice as convincing to make up for it. He turned to enter the fireplace but Snape stopped him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

'Harry, you'll be fine,' the man said earnestly.

Harry felt the slightest pressure as Snape grasped his shoulder before the man turned to Harry's trunk. With a heavy heart Harry entered the fireplace.

'The Hogs Head private rooms,' he called clearly.

Dozens of fireplaces flashed before Harry's eyes before he stopped suddenly in a dingy fireplace that had clearly seen better days.

'Harry,' a voice cried in greeting and Harry found himself being helped out of the fireplace by Professor McGonagall. The stern woman passed a critical eye over him, but Harry could tell she was pleased to see him.

'Hello Professor,' he said politely, steadying Hedwig on his arm.

'I trust you have managed to regain your memories?' McGonagall asked.

'I think I've regained the majority Professor,' Harry answered honestly, 'enough to sit my OWLs anyway.'

The whoosh of the fireplace announced Snape's arrival. Harry stepped forward to accept his trunk from the scowling man.

'Severus.'

'Minerva,' Snape replied stiffly.

An awkward silence fell as McGonagall looked between Snape and Harry, obviously surprised by the tension within the room.

'Very well,' she said briskly, her Scottish brogue prominent. 'Shall we go Harry?'

Snape seemed to take that as his dismissal turning for the fireplace without comment.

'Thanks sir,' Harry said automatically.

Snape simply sneered at Harry before disappearing in a whirl of green flames. Harry stared at the fireplace, shocked by how cold Snape's gaze had been.

'Don't worry Harry, you know how he is,' McGonagall cut in, snapping him out of his thoughts.

'Err...yeah,' Harry agreed uncertainly.

He could see McGonagall had not been impressed by Snape's cold demeanour but she did not question him. As they left the Hogs Head Harry looked up, smiling at the sight of the familiar castle before him.

XXXX

**A/N: **I hope you all enjoyed this latest chapter (updated in a much more timely manner than the previous!). Some of you may be annoyed that I didn't include the conversation between Harry and Snape about Snape's past. Chapter 16 will be dealing with it, although possibly not in the way you imagine. This chapter marks the end of Harry's time at Spinner's End and I hope you'll all agree that it was rounded off nicely. Harry's finally back at Hogwarts and for those of you who were missing them, Hermione and Ron will most definitely be appearing next chapter. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story so far, particularly since we've left Spinner's End behind. Once again thank you to all my faithful reviewers. In particular special mention to **Fawkes1725** who I believe was my 100th reviewer!

I think that's about all from me. All that remains now is to wish you all Season's Greetings! I highly doubt I'll be updating before Christmas but hopefully I'll manage to get another 2 chapters out before the end of the year. Until next time!


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15_ 19th - 26th May, 1996 - Harry's Week_

Harry had barely set foot in the Entrance Hall before the sickly sweet voice of Dolores Umbridge accosted him.

'Ah, _Mister_ Potter,' she said haughtily, 'a word in my office if you would be so kind.'

Harry had no choice but to follow her, the sound of his classmates enjoying dinner faded away as she led him towards her office. Taking a seat opposite her he watched as she fussed with a pot of tea.

'Well Mr Potter,' she began as she seated herself, 'kindly explain why you have absented yourself from school for the last month.'

'Did Professor McGonagall not inform you?' Harry asked innocently.

'Oh yes she did tell me something, but I'd much rather hear it from you,' she simpered, sipping her tea in a sickening manner.

'My aunt died suddenly Professor,' Harry began, hoping he sounded genuinely upset. 'I've been in Australia for the last month whilst my family sorted her affairs. I only just got back to England last night,' he added helpfully.

He watched as Umbridge's disappointment became apparent as he continued his story. She had obviously hoped that his explanation would not match Professor McGonagall's.

'Very well,' she pouted. 'Get out Potter.'

Harry smirked as he shut the door behind him. It seemed Umbridge was the same as ever. Quickly he made his way down to the Great Hall, eager to find Ron and Hermione. If he was lucky he'd catch them at dessert. As he hurried through the corridors, whispers followed him as students recognised him.

'Hey is that Potter – '

'I thought he left – '

'I heard he was arrested for that article –'

'It is Potter –'

'I heard someone died –'

Ignoring them as best he could Harry tried to make his way discreetly along the Gryffindor table.

'Harry!' someone exclaimed loudly, as they clapped him on the back. Turning around he found Dean and Seamus grinning broadly at him.

'Dean, Seamus' he said greeting them fondly.

'Sorry to hear about your aunt Harry.'

Harry turned to find Neville Longbottom behind him, studying him quietly.

'Oh...yeah,' Seamus added apologetically. 'We were all sorry to hear about that Harry.'

'It's okay,' Harry said calmly. 'It's great to see you guys again,' he added as he scanned the table for Ron and Hermione.

'They had dinner early' Neville said quietly, having noticed Harry searching.

'Oh right,' Harry said awkwardly.

'We're all heading back to the common room if you want to come with us,' Dean cut in.

Eager to talk with Ron and Hermione, Harry agreed readily, despite not having eaten since lunch. The boys spent most of the walk back discussing the upcoming OWLs.

'But how did you manage to practice anything?' Dean asked as they climbed through the portrait hole.

'Err...well...I mainly just studied the theory,' Harry replied clumsily. He was saved further explanation though by the timely arrival of Hermione, who had spotted them from her corner seat in the common room.

'Harry!' she cried warmly, enveloping him in a bone-crushing hug that would rival even that of Mrs Weasley.

'Hello Hermione.'

Harry couldn't help but grin ear to ear as he hugged her back. Neville, Dean and Seamus, took the opportunity to surreptitiously leave, led by Neville who seemed to understand that the friends would have much to catch up on.

'You got a haircut,' Hermione said pointedly, reaching up to run her hand through Harry's shortened hair.

'Yeah,' Harry began, before pulling Hermione aside out of the earshot of others. 'Listen, where's Ron? I've got loads to tell you guys.'

'Quidditch practice,' Hermione replied immediately. 'How about I tell you what you've missed and when Ron gets back you can tell us _everything_,' she proposed, giving Harry a significant look as she guided him towards where she had been seated.

'Yeah, good idea,' he agreed following her.

'Well,' she began as she moved a pile of parchment so Harry could sit down, 'the holidays were fairly quiet. To be honest, we've spent most of the time you've been gone revising. Oh,' Hermione gasped suddenly, 'you missed your careers advice interview!'

Harry suppressed a laugh before replying.

'Yeah Professor McGonagall told me as we were coming up from Hogsmeade. She said I can see her tomorrow after classes.'

'That's good,' Hermione replied happily. 'That reminds me though; we've got Umbridge and her horrible minion tomorrow.'

'Her minion?' Harry queried, perplexed by Hermione's dark tone.

'_Professor _Whitestone,' Hermione replied indignantly, 'although she's hardly worthy of the title. Umbridge hired her to replace Professor Snape.'

'She can't have sacked Snape,' Harry cut in angrily without thinking.

Hermione gave him an odd look before replying.

'She hasn't Harry,' Hermione began, frowning slightly. 'Snape left sometime during the holidays. First day of classes Umbridge introduced Professor Whitestone. All Umbridge said was that Snape had taken a leave of absence. Well, as you can imagine most of Gryffindor thought that was well worth celebrating,' Hermione said disapprovingly. 'But she's the worst teacher imaginable Harry. I have no idea how we're going to pass our Potion OWL. She's Umbridge's lackey through and through. All she talks about is learning under a 'Ministry approved curriculum'. We're lucky if we even get round to brewing at all, and if we do it almost always ends up with someone exploding a cauldron – '

Hermione was interrupted by the sound of the Quidditch team entering through the portrait hole, a dejected looking Ron bringing up the rear of the group. The team dispersed with Ron making a beeline for Hermione's study spot.

'Harry!' he exclaimed, grinning as he caught sight of Harry beside Hermione's books.

'Hey Ron,' Harry replied, grinning himself as he stood to greet his best friend.

'How have you been mate?' Ron asked, as he clapped Harry on the back before shifting some books so he too could take a seat.

'Fine,' Harry replied easily, as he resumed his seat. 'What about you? How was Quidditch practice?'

Ron smiled grimly at that as he replied, in a lowered tone.

'Hopeless,' he admitted honestly. 'We play Ravenclaw in the final on Saturday. Slytherin lost to Hufflepuff – Montague was out –' Ron added seeing Harry's astonished look, '230 to 100. I don't think we've got much of a chance, but I mean I can't get any worse now can I?' he finished grimly.

'I'm sure you'll do fine,' Harry said loyally.

'Anyway that doesn't matter,' Ron began. 'Has Hermione told you what you missed?'

'Well, she was just telling me about Professor Whitestone,' Harry began unsurely.

'Oh her,' Ron said knowingly. 'Right old hag she is, almost as bad as Umbridge. No, I meant did she tell you about Fred and George?'

'Err, no' Harry said, frowning as he looked over at Hermione who was now reading through her notes.

Ron also looked over at Hermione, giving her a scandalous look.

'Oh honestly Ronald,' she said without looking up, 'I thought he'd much rather know about Professor Whitestone.'

Ron gave Hermione a horrified look before turning back to Harry excitedly.

'It was brilliant Harry,' he began eagerly. 'First day back from the holidays they set off this portable swamp thing, it's still up on the fifth floor corridor if you want to see it. Anyway Umbridge completely lost it. She had them both in the Entrance Hall, demanding an explanation in front of the whole school. Well Fred and George weren't particularly interested in answering her questions, so she sent Filch off to fetch her 'approval for whipping' form. He came running back, and honestly Harry I don't think I've ever seen the man happier. As soon as Fred and George saw him though they summoned their brooms from Umbridge's office and flew off. You should have seen Umbridge's face Harry,' Ron finished wistfully.

'You're kidding?' Harry asked. 'I can't believe I missed this! What happened after? Where did they go?'

'Well,' Ron continued eagerly, 'right before they flew off Fred ordered Peeves to give Umbridge hell. And believe it or not he has. The last few weeks have been ridiculous. Fred and George must have sold hundreds of Snackboxes; Umbridge has had to send whole classes to the Hospital Wing. Anyway, somehow Fred and George have managed to get premises in Diagon Alley and they're living above their shop. Mum has no idea where they got the money from though,' he added as an afterthought. 'She's been writing to me about it ever since they left.'

Harry shifted guiltily in his seat. He knew exactly where Fred and George had gotten the money. He couldn't help but feel shamed at the thought that Mrs Weasley had been worrying over the origins of the twin's money when he held the answer.

'Listen,' Harry cut in, 'shall we go somewhere a bit more private and I'll fill you in on where I've been.'

Both Ron and Hermione agreed readily, pausing only for Harry to fetch both his cloak and map from his dormitory before the trio left the common room. As they made their way up to the Room of Requirement, passing the fifth corridor swamp – which Harry spent several minutes admiring – Harry explained how he had given his Triwizard winnings to the twins. Ron was so shocked he stopped in the middle of the corridor. At first Harry had been wary of the strange expression spreading across Ron's face until he realised it was a mix of amusement and relief.

'That's brilliant Harry,' Ron began fervently as they continued on their way. 'Mum can't blame me for any of this. Can I tell her?'

'I think you'd probably better,' Hermione put in dryly.

She'd spent the better part of three weeks listening to Ron complain that Mrs Weasley would find some way to blame him for Fred and George dropping out.

Confidently Harry approached the wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, as Ron and Hermione bickered behind him. _I need a room where we can't be overheard..._he thought as he passed the wall three times. A door materialised on his third pass, and grinning Harry gestured for Ron and Hermione to precede him through.

'Err...why'd you ask for a sitting room Harry?' Ron asked as he stepped into the room.

'I didn't,' Harry said as he followed them through. 'I asked for somewhere we could...' he trailed off as he caught sight of the room.

It was Snape's sitting room; complete with worn sofa and Snape's armchair. Somehow the room had known that he'd wanted a place where he felt safe. And so it had given him this room. Ron and Hermione had already seated themselves on the sofa and so Harry turned to the armchair. It felt strange to be sitting in the chair that Snape had so often occupied, but Harry had to remind himself that it wasn't really Snape's sitting room – as much as he might have wanted to be there.

'Odd furniture,' Ron commented as he fiddled with a thread.

'I like it,' Harry said quietly.

'Professor McGonagall told us that your aunt died,' Hermione said carefully, after a moment's silence.

'She didn't,' Harry said immediately, watching as Ron and Hermione shared a relieved look. 'I lost my memory.'

'What?' Ron exclaimed.

'How?' Hermione asked.

'I don't know,' Harry said quietly, staring at the fireplace.

Ron and Hermione shared an alarmed look before Hermione spoke again.

'But Harry, you remember everything now don't you?'

'I've got most of it back now, yes' he said calmly, looking up from the fireplace. 'I just can't remember how it happened yet. All I remember of that day is waking up in a corridor and being found by Professor McGonagall.'

'But where have you been?' Ron asked.

Harry paused for a moment, knowing his answer was going to cause a reaction.

'With Snape,' he answered.

'WHAT!' Ron exclaimed. 'Harry, are you insane? The man hates you. How could you possibly have spent the last six weeks with him? Besides Snape's on leave at the moment, didn't Hermione tell you? No one's seen him for six weeks, thank Merlin.'

'Isn't it obvious?' Hermione cut in. 'You said it yourself Ron, no one's seen Snape for six weeks. Harry's been gone for six weeks.'

She paused for a moment, and Harry watched as Ron's jaw dropped.

'Professor Snape must have been helping you get your memory back, right Harry?' Hermione continued calmly.

'Yeah, he has. I've spent the last six weeks with him at his home.'

Ron spluttered indignantly, but Harry ploughed on.

'He didn't want me to tell you any of this, but I can't lie to you guys. Not about something like this.'

Hermione smiled encouragingly at him, whilst shooting a disapproving look at Ron.

'Things have changed between us,' Harry admitted. 'I don't hate him anymore, and he doesn't hate me. You have to trust me on this. I trust him now, and I would trust him with my life.'

'He can't be seen to have changed though, can he?' Hermione cut in shrewdly.

Harry smiled sadly at her, glad for how easily she had accepted and realised the situation.

'No...and neither can we. It will be all our lives if Voldemort ever finds out,' Harry finished seriously.

It was silent for awhile as each of them mulled over their thoughts until Ron spoke up.

'So, he's still going to be a right bastard to you?' he asked.

Harry nodded, but Ron continued before Harry could speak.

'Listen Harry, I understand what you're saying, even if I can't believe it – not yet anyway. We've known Snape for five years Harry, and he has never been anything but a bullying git who's had it in for you from day one. Saying that, I wouldn't be much of a friend if I didn't trust you, and I do – it's Snape I don't. Hear me out Harry,' he said as Harry made to interrupt.

'All I'm saying is I trust you for now and by extension Snape, although I'd rather not. But trust me when I say if Snape does something that ends up hurting you, I'll – ' he paused looking at Hermione for a moment seeking her approval '_we'll_ make sure he regrets it.'

'I don't doubt it,' Harry said seriously. 'I know it won't be necessary though.'

'When will he be back?' Hermione asked.

'He'll be back for the start of next week.'

'Thank Merlin!' exclaimed Ron. 'I don't think I can take much more of Whitestone. At the rate we're going I'm going to fail this OWL. I never thought I'd be happy to see Snape back at Hogwarts though.'

'She really must be terrible if you actually want Snape back,' Harry laughed.

They spent the next hour talking freely. Ron and Hermione spent almost forty minutes abusing Professor Whitestone. So much so that Harry felt as though he'd already met her. The rest of the time was spent discussing Harry's stay with Snape. Ron wanted to know about the 'dungeon bat's lair' as he described it, whilst Hermione was more interested in Harry's lessons.

It was close to curfew as the trio made their way back to the common room, using the Map to avoid members of the Inquisitorial Squad. As Harry settled in his familiar four-poster bed, he couldn't help but wonder what Snape was doing. He sincerely hoped the man would keep his promise.

XXXX

Harry had forgotten just how terrible History of Magic could be first thing on a Monday morning. Both he and Ron struggled vainly to stay awake as Binns lectured in his monotone. Harry ended up just reading through his textbook; earning a disapproving look from Hermione.

'Harry, you should have been paying attention,' Hermione scolded as they made their way to the dungeons for double Potions.

'Hermione, it's impossible to –'

'Well, well, well,' a voice drawled from behind Harry, 'if it isn't _famous_ Potter.'

Harry stopped in his tracks. He turned to find himself face to face with Draco Malfoy, flanked by his cronies Crabbe and Goyle.

'What do you want Malfoy?' he asked irritably.

'That's hardly the way one should speak to their superiors Potter, shall we say five points for impertinence?'

'Get lost Malfoy,' Ron cut in.

'Another five for Weasley,' Malfoy sneered 'and shall we make it a round dozen for the Mudblood?'

Crabbe and Goyle guffawed loudly as Ron reached for his wand, whilst Malfoy watched on smirking coldly at Hermione.

'Leave him Ron,' Hermione cried, grabbing Ron by the back of his robes.

Harry balled his hands into fists before once more addressing Malfoy.

'Is there something in particular you wanted Malfoy?' he asked stiffly.

He knew Malfoy would continue to take points until he'd gotten what he wanted. The blonde boy turned his cold gaze to Harry, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. Harry had the sudden unpleasant feeling that Malfoy knew something, but shook it off before it could take root.

'Not really Potter,' the boy drawled. 'Only, I heard one of your relatives died.'

When Harry said nothing, Malfoy simply smirked before gesturing for Crabbe and Goyle to follow him. As he passed Harry he paused momentarily.

'You want to be careful Potter, don't want to lose anyone else now, do you.'

Harry frowned as Malfoy pushed past him, heading for the dungeons.

'What was that about?' Hermione asked. She too was frowning after Malfoy.

'I don't know,' Harry said truthfully. 'Let's get to class.'

Professor Whitestone could have been Umbridge's twin sister in all but looks, Harry thought sourly as he chopped flobberworms. Where Umbridge was short and squat, Whitestone was tall and slender. Whitestone had even perfected the high-pitched girly laugh Umbridge so often employed. Currently they were brewing a 'giggling potion' which Harry was sure Snape would have assigned to third years, if he'd ever considered it for the curriculum. Whatever 'curriculum' Whitestone was working from, it was certainly not one which would get them through their OWLs. The fact that they were even brewing was apparently one of her 'better' lessons, according to Ron and Hermione.

Harry smirked to himself as he stirred what could only be termed 'gloop', imagining the way Snape would react were he here now. He was sure Snape would not be seated at his desk reading through Ministry documents, as Professor Whitestone currently was. In fact, Harry could not recall a lesson where Snape had not prowled the room.

It was as Neville's cauldron exploded beside him that he truly appreciated Snape's abilities as a teacher.

XXXX

Awareness returned slowly to Harry, and he opened his eyes to find the world blurry. Realising he was in the Hospital Wing, he turned to the side table in search of his glasses, swinging his legs over the side so he was sitting on the bed. Putting them on the world came into focus and he spied the figure of Madam Pomfrey approaching him.

'Honestly, that _woman_,' Madam Pomfrey muttered as she reached Harry's bedside. 'You're the second student I've had in here today alone for a 'Potions mishap' as she calls them. Since she's been here I've had students coming in with burns or abrasions nearly every lesson,' Madam Pomfrey continued as she tested Harry's pupillary light reflex with the tip of her wand.

'When Severus gets back I'll be having a stern word with the young man. Up and leaving like that, without even a 'by your leave'. Don't know who he thinks he is.'

Harry couldn't help but laugh as Madam Pomfrey continued to grumble under her breath as she finished giving him the once over.

'Oh I'm sorry Harry,' she said kindly, Harry's laughter having stopped her rant. 'I shouldn't be taking this out on you. You've only just got back. I trust Severus maintained your dosage appropriately?'

'Yes, I finished two weeks ago,' Harry answered.

Madam Pomfrey nodded imperiously before subjecting Harry to the series of tests he'd taken when he'd first lost his memory.

'Well your results are much better Harry,' she said distractedly as she filled in a form. 'Have you remembered how you were injured yet?'

'No,' Harry answered sadly. 'I can't seem to remember that week yet.' He paused momentarily before continuing on unsurely. 'I still feel like there's something important I've forgotten. It's there in the back of my mind but I can't focus on it,' he finished helplessly.

Madam Pomfrey smiled at him sadly.

'These things take time Harry,' she said gently. 'The fact that you are even aware that you've forgotten it is a good sign. It means the memory is likely intact but is being repressed. It's possible that your subconscious is controlling the memory until something or someone can trigger it. Try not to worry about it. The good thing is that you've managed to recover remarkably quickly and with good results.'

Harry nodded, and Madam Pomfrey smiled encouragingly at him.

'It'll come back,' she said, gently squeezing his shoulder. 'Just give it time.'

'Alright,' Harry said tiredly.

'Well, you're clear to go now. It's almost lunchtime if you want to make your way straight to the Great Hall.'

'Thanks Madam Pomfrey,' he said graciously as he got off the bed.

XXXX

Harry was one of the first students in the Great Hall for lunch, but he didn't particularly mind as he hastily helped himself to a pasta dish. He was almost done by the time Ron and Hermione joined him; both looking thoroughly put out. Ron handed over Harry's schoolbag as he seated himself, immediately reaching for the same pasta dish Harry had eaten.

'Are you alright Harry?' Hermione asked as she sat herself on the other side of Harry.

'Yeah, I'm fine,' he said quickly. 'How was the rest of the lesson?'

'Completely rubbish,' Ron answered, fork hovering near his mouth as he looked darkly up at the Head Table.

Harry looked up to see Professor Whitestone seated next to Umbridge, the two in deep conversation. He scowled darkly at the sight of Umbridge in Dumbledore's chair before turning back to his friends.

'Have all her lessons been like that?' he asked Hermione. 'I honestly think she made up that "giggling potion". Mine looked like dried glue and I followed the instructions to the letter.'

'It's certainly not in the normal fifth year curriculum,' Hermione said quietly. 'Remember when Umbridge inspected Snape, she wasn't particular pleased we were all learning Strengthening Solutions. Now that she has Whitestone in his position she's free to dictate the Potions curriculum. The Ministry has more control over Hogwarts now than it ever has before. The worst of it is that Whitestone is a terrible teacher. Snape had maybe two or three first years blow up a cauldron over the entire year. Whitestone's had cauldron explosions in almost all her lessons.'

'I heard,' Harry said gravely. 'Madam Pomfrey is furious with her.'

'Look, let's get out of here,' Hermione said suddenly. 'If we hurry we'll have time to go over the real Potions lesson before afternoon classes.'

'Hermione,' Ron moaned 'it's lunchtime. Can we please enjoy it for once?'

Harry had to stifle a laugh at the dirty look Hermione shot Ron. He got the distinct impression that Hermione had had Ron spending most lunch hours in the library for the past month.

'You'll thank me later Ronald,' she replied icily before grabbing her school bag and storming off to the library.

'Come on,' Ron said resignedly. 'We better go or she'll be too angry to help.'

Harry smiled, before grabbing his school bag and following Ron out.

XXXX

Classes had finished for the afternoon as Harry made his way towards McGonagall's office.

'Good evening Professor,' he said as he closed the door behind him.

'Ah Potter,' McGonagall said from behind her desk. 'How was your first day back? You managed to make it to the Hospital Wing I heard.'

'Err, yeah' Harry answered as he seated himself. 'Neville's cauldron exploded and...well –'

'Understandable Potter,' McGonagall cut in stiffly. 'Accidents happen...particularly when classes are being supervised by incompetent fools.'

Harry simply nodded, watching as McGonagall pulled out a sheath of parchment with his name at the top.

'Well Potter,' she began, 'we're here to discuss your career options and in particular the subjects you wish to consider for sixth and seventh year. Have you had any thoughts on what you might like to do once you finish school?'

'Um,' he began hesitantly. 'Well, I thought maybe an Auror?'

'I thought as much,' Professor McGonagall said as she withdrew a brochure from the stack next to her desk. She handed it over to Harry before continuing on. 'They take only the best Potter; you'll need top grades if you truly wish to enter the Auror corp. They require 'Exceeds Expectations' or higher in five NEWTs if I remember correctly.'

Harry nodded, flipping through the brochure briefly.

'It's not an easy choice Potter, but I see no reason why you won't succeed if you apply yourself.'

Harry looked up, meeting her gaze steadily and nodded in understanding. For the briefest of moments he saw a flicker of pride before Professor McGonagall returned her attention to the parchment before her.

'As to subjects,' she began briskly. 'Defence Against the Dark Arts is a must, Transfiguration is also highly recommended. Be aware that I only accept students with 'Exceeds Expectations' or higher into my NEWT classes Potter. Looking at your marks before term break I'd say you were averaging an 'Acceptable'. I'm not sure what your current skill level is, but I'd recommend that you focus on maintaining and improving your grade over the next two weeks. I would also suggest Charms and Potions. You'll need to work particularly hard in Potions, Potter. Professor Snape takes only those students who achieve 'Outstanding' into his NEWT classes.'

Harry nodded. He wasn't really surprised. Still he wasn't sure if he'd be capable of achieving an 'Outstanding.'

'Although I do think Severus will be forced to drop his standards after this last month,' McGonagall muttered so quietly Harry almost missed it.

'As to your fifth subject, I would recommend taking the one you enjoy most Potter. Looking over your marks, I'd recommend a bit more work in Transfiguration and Potions whist maintaining your Charms. Your Defence Against the Dark Arts is excellent. Professor Lupin speaks very highly of your aptitude for the subject,' she said warmly, smiling across at Harry.

'Are there any other requirements for becoming an Auror,' Harry asked.

'Assuming you get the required NEWTs you will also need to undertake a series of character and aptitude tests. They test your ability to act under pressure and the more practical skills you will require as an Auror,' McGonagall explained. 'The training is undertaken over three years, so you'll need to be prepared for exams and study once you've left Hogwarts. Does that all sound reasonable to you?'

'Yes Professor.'

'Very well Potter, any further questions?'

'No, I think you've explained everything. Thanks Professor,' Harry said as he made his way to the door.

'Good evening Potter,' McGonagall said as she turned back to her papers.

XXXX

The remainder of the week passed mostly without incident until Friday afternoon. In less than a week Harry had come to loathe both Professor Whitestone and Potions. She was far too similar to Umbridge for Harry's liking. His final lesson for the week was Potions. As the trio entered the classroom Harry noted with gloom that it was going to be another theory lesson. Professor Whitestone had laid out a class set of Ministry approved textbooks which the class was required to spend the lesson reading from. The previous lessons Whitestone had chosen topics which could almost pass for the normal syllabus but today she had chosen Forgetfulness Potions.

'Hermione,' Harry whispered under his breath. 'This is ridiculous. We studied this in first year!'

'I know Harry,' she replied urgently. 'It's what she's like. Just ignore her and we can study correctly later.'

'But we shouldn't have to,' Harry replied agitatedly.

He was on edge; he'd caught Umbridge and Whitestone studying him closely during lunch. He had a bad feeling they'd been conspiring about him. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he turned back to his book.

'You will see me after class Mr Potter,' Whitestone said from behind him.

It had been the feel of her cold breath on the back of his neck which had caused his hairs to stand on end he realised with horror. The remainder of the class passed in silence, Harry angrily turning the pages of his text, not taking a word in. Whatever Whitestone wanted with him it couldn't be good. As far as Harry was concerned he hadn't done anything which warranted him staying after class.

Ron and Hermione promised to wait outside for him, as Harry made his way to the front of the room as the class left around him. Whitestone was seated at Snape's desk and Harry had the sudden image of a spider at the centre of its web, waiting to catch a fly.

'Detention for a week Potter,' she said smugly as Harry approached the desk.

'But I haven't done anything wrong!' Harry answered indignantly, without thinking.

'Oh but you have _Mister_ Potter,' she continued in her sickly sweet voice. Harry felt his cheeks burn in anger as the woman continued to study him smugly. 'You were speaking out of turn during class.'

'With respect,' Harry ground out through gritted teeth, 'the class hadn't started when I was speaking.'

'Hadn't it?' Whitestone asked innocently, the corners of her mouth curling up. 'You were in my classroom Mr Potter, under my rules. There is no talking once you enter my classroom.'

Harry continued to stare openly at her in anger, which only seemed to encourage her further.

'Do you feel that you have been wronged somehow Mr Potter?' she asked in her girlish voice.

When Harry did not answer, she only laughed before continuing.

'Headmistress Umbridge warned me about you Potter,' she said suddenly, her tone cold and calculating. 'You are a liar and an upstart –'

'I am not,' Harry cut in angrily.

As soon as he opened his mouth he caught the triumphant gleam in Whitestone's eyes and realised he had played right into her trap. He had been caught as easily as a fly in a web.

'Temper, temper,' she said smugly. 'It seems the lesson Dolores has been trying so hard to teach you hasn't quite _sunk in_ yet.'

'I'll expect you in my office, seven o'clock this evening,' she said after a moment's pause, dismissing him with a wave of her hand.

Harry stormed out of the classroom, straight into Ron and Hermione who were waiting in the corridor.

'What did she want?' Hermione asked.

'She's given me detention for the week,' he answered angrily, leading the way at a quick march from the dungeons.

'What for?' Ron asked indignantly as he hurried to keep up with Harry's pace. 'You didn't do anything wrong.'

'I know,' Harry said stopping suddenly once he'd put several floors between him and Whitestone. Looking around the deserted corridor he pulled Ron and Hermione into an empty classroom before casting a quick silencing charm. Both Ron and Hermione raised an eyebrow at the extra precaution.

'Habit from Snape,' he muttered as he seated himself on a chair. 'You never know who could be listening.'

'So, what reason did she give,' Ron pressed.

'Talking in class,' Harry said resignedly. 'It's Umbridge's doing though,' he continued hurriedly. 'She just wants me in detention. Whitestone must enjoy using blood quills as well,' he finished sourly.

'But Whitestone won't be here next week. You said Snape's coming back this weekend,' Hermione said.

'Yeah he should be,' Harry said distractedly. 'I might only have to do tonight and tomorrow if I'm lucky. But knowing Umbridge she'll probably make sure I serve them all.'

'Harry you need to tell someone,' Hermione urged.

'No,' Harry cut in, 'it's fine Hermione. I'm not going to let Umbridge and Whitestone beat me at their game. Besides she's Headmistress now, telling McGonagall won't change anything.'

Harry couldn't help but feel slightly guilty as they made their way downstairs for dinner. Snape had asked him not to attend any further detentions which required him to use a blood quill. He'd asked Harry specifically to come to him if Umbridge assigned him another detention. But what could Harry do. Even if he had wanted to, Snape was miles away. No, Harry decided, he would do the detentions. After all, he'd faced worse. A few more detentions with a blood quill weren't going to kill him.

XXXX

It was Saturday; the day of the final Quidditch Match for the year. Harry woke tired and sore. Professor Whitestone had kept him until eleven, forcing him to carve '_I must not tell lies'_ over and over into the back of his hand. The detention had been much the same as those he had served with Umbridge. He had said only 'good evening' and 'good night'. No other sound had escaped him, as he'd silently endured the detention. Thankfully Hermione had been waiting for him loyally in the common room with a bowl of Murtlap Essence standing ready. Ron had been sent to bed by Angelina, against his wishes, but Harry had understood.

As he rolled out of bed he caught sight of Ron standing pale but determined at the end of his own four-poster, already dressed in his Quidditch robes.

'You alright Harry?' he asked as he collected his Keeper gloves from his trunk. 'I wanted to wait up for you but Angelina had the whole team in bed by nine.'

'I'm fine,' Harry said easily. 'How are you feeling? Ready?'

'Well...,' he said unsurely. 'I've got nothing to lose now have I? Can't get any worse than I have been eh?' he said, a forced cheeriness in his tone.

'You'll do brilliantly Ron,' Harry said loyally, clapping him on the back.

Ron seemed to perk up at that, much to Harry's relief as he hurriedly dressed. Hermione met them in the common room and the trio made their way down to breakfast together; both Harry and Hermione encouraging Ron's odd sense of optimism.

XXXX

It was coming up to eleven o'clock as Harry and Hermione made their way down to the pitch.

'You seem different Harry,' Hermione said carefully as they followed the large crowd.

'How so?' Harry asked amusedly, smiling crookedly across at her.

'You're not as angry,' she said shrewdly. 'Did –

She paused suddenly looking around for eavesdroppers, before mouthing '_Snape'_.

'Did he help you?'

Harry stopped walking, studying Hermione quietly.

'Yeah, he did,' he answered flatly. He wasn't sure where Hermione was going with her questions but he did not wish to discuss what he and Snape had spoken about with his friends.

Hermione looked over at him for a moment longer, before suddenly reaching out and giving him a quick hug.

'I'm glad he did,' she said seriously, as she stepped back.

She smiled up at him then, and Harry smiled back just as easily.

'Come on, let's go watch Gryffindor win,' she said cheerfully, linking her arm through with Harry's and dragging him forward.

It was perfect conditions for Quidditch Harry noted, as they found seats in the topmost row of the stands. Lee Jordan was commentating as usual but Harry thought he seemed rather out of spirits – undoubtedly due to the loss of Fred and George. Harry watched as the players came out onto the pitch. He spotted Cho easily near the head of the Ravenclaw team. He realised with a start he hadn't thought about Cho since their disastrous date and the incident with Marietta Edgecombe.

'Oh, I forgot Cho was playing,' Hermione said from beside him.

'Yeah, so did I,' Harry admitted.

'How are things between you...'Hermione asked hesitantly.

'I don't know,' Harry replied honestly.

He was surprised to find though that where once his stomach would have back flipped at the sight of Cho it now merely lurched feebly. He watched as Cho talked happily with Roger Davies; a sight that would once have caused jealousy. Turning his attention back to the pitch, he watched as Ron flew towards the goal hoops. Madam Hooch released the balls and the match began.

'_And they're off!' said Lee. 'And Davies takes the Quaffle immediately, Ravenclaw Captain Davies with the Quaffle, he dodges Johnson, he dodges Bell, he dodges Spinnet as well ... he's going straight for goal! He's going to shoot – and – and –' Lee swore very loudly. 'And he's scored.'_

_Harry and Hermione groaned with the rest of the Gryffindors. Predictably, horribly, the Slytherins on the other side of the stands began to sing:_

'_Weasley cannot save a thing; He cannot block a single ring ...'_

'Harry,' a hoarse voice came from behind him. 'Hermione ...'

Harry turned round, coming face to face with Hagrid, who had somehow managed to squeeze himself along the back row to reach them.

'_Listen,' he whispered, 'can yeh come with me? Now? While ev'ryone's watchin' the match?'_

'_Err ... can't it wait, Hagrid?' asked Harry. 'Till the match is over?'_

'_No,' said Hagrid. 'No, Harry, it's gotta be now ... while ev'ryone's lookin' the other way ... please?'_

_Hagrid's nose was gently dripping blood. His eyes were both blackened._ It had been weeks since Harry had seen him, and never this close up; he looked utterly woebegone.

'Of course,' Harry said without further thought. 'Course we'll come.'

XXXX

The mood in the common room that evening was ecstatic as Gryffindor celebrated, but Harry couldn't quite get into it. Hagrid's revelation of Grawp and the fact that he had missed the match dampened his desire to celebrate. Both he and Hermione had agreed it would be best to allow Ron this evening to celebrate, and watching Ron – the centre of attention for the evening – he knew they'd made the right decision.

'Hello Harry.'

Harry looked up to find Ginny Weasley seated beside him.

'Oh, hey Ginny,' he said quietly. 'How are you?'

'Great,' she began. 'I thought I'd come and say hello. I haven't seen you around much since you got back. We were all sorry to hear about your aunt you know.'

'Thanks,' he said. 'Yeah I've spent most of the last week in the library,' he offered in explanation. He did feel slightly guilty that he hadn't spoken to Ginny since he'd gotten back – after all she was like family to him.

'And I've spent most of the week on the pitch,' she finished with a smile. 'Did you enjoy the match?' she asked.

'Err, yeah it was great,' Harry said hastily, 'so what have you been up to lately?'

Ginny seemed surprised by the sudden change in conversation but didn't question it. Harry spent almost an hour catching up with Ginny before leaving for bed. He smiled to himself as he climbed into bed, Ginny having successfully taken his mind off Grawp.

XXXX

Harry watched as Ron opened and closed his mouth silently several times.

'A giant,' Ron whispered, 'a giant, in the forest.'

'Yes,' Hermione said briskly. 'And Hagrid wants us to teach him English.'

'What!' Ron spluttered, suddenly looking alarmed. 'Has he lost his mind!'

They were seated outside, beneath the beech tree, books strewn carelessly around them as they studied.

'He can't expect us to actually go into the forest can he?' Ron asked, staring off darkly towards Hagrid's Hut. 'I mean he's a teacher. He _knows_ we're not allowed.'

'He's already made us promise,' Harry said gloomily as he stared off towards the forest. 'Mind you, I don't fancy trying to get through those centaurs again without Hagrid,' he added uneasily.

'Well, he's not gone yet,' Hermione said looking up from her Transfiguration text towards Hagrid's Hut. 'We'll just have to hope he makes it to the end of the year.'

Even as she said it though Harry could tell she didn't believe it. Harry knew how ambitious Umbridge was. If she wanted Hagrid gone, nothing would be able to stop her now.

They spent the rest of the afternoon studying out beneath the beech tree. Ron's spirits returned rapidly and soon enough he was once again rumpling his hair to make it appear more windswept. Seeing the gesture once again, Harry started suddenly. There was something about the gesture. He'd seen it before, he was sure. He had the strangest feeling that it was part of an important memory. Something he needed to recall...but he couldn't.

'You alright, Harry?' Ron asked suddenly, staring at him in concern.

'Yeah...'he began unsurely. 'I...I just thought I remembered something...'

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look, and Harry got the impression they'd spoken about this before.

'Harry,' Hermione began carefully. 'You know the night you lost your memory?'

'Yeah,' he answered cautiously.

'Well...you weren't with us because you had an Occlumency lesson,' she finished.

'And?' Harry queried. Unsure of what Hermione was implying.

'Well, don't take this the wrong way mate,' Ron cut in. 'But isn't it possible Snape...you know...'

'What?' Harry asked, suddenly angry. 'Hit me over the head?'

Ron and Hermione seemed to realise immediately that they'd said the wrong thing.

'Look,' Harry said, careful to keep his anger under control. 'It's just as likely that I managed to get hurt on my way to or from Occlumency. For all I know I could have tripped down the stairs or something.'

'I don't think Snape had anything to do with it,' he said frankly when Ron and Hermione still looked unconvinced. 'He's not like that,' he said in a final tone.

'Look, let's just get back to studying,' Harry said, in an effort to change the topic, turning back to his Transfiguration book.

Ron and Hermione quickly turned back to their books and the trio resumed their study. It was close to dinner time when Hermione spoke up.

'Harry,' she said warily. 'It's Snape. He's back.'

Harry's head shot up, turning immediately towards where Hermione was looking. Sure enough Snape was entering the castle, having just gotten out of a Thestral-drawn carriage, his black robes billowing ominously behind him.

XXXX

**A/N:** Hello all. My apologies. It would seem I'm only going to manage to get this final chapter out before the new year. I forgot how much tends to be done between Christmas and New Years Eve. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and I think most of you will realise what the next Chapter will be...or rather whose POV it will be from. I'm particularly interested in feedback on this chapter. Returning to Hogwarts has suddenly supplied a multitude of characters and I'm quite interested to hear if I'm staying in character with everyone. Also note that the section in italics is taken directly from the book. I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and to everyone I wish a Happy New Year. Until next time.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16 _19th - 26th May 1996 Snape's Week_

Snape emerged distractedly from the fireplace, stepping back into his sitting room. He'd warned Harry countless times to be prepared. Yet he had seen the hurt and betrayal in the boy's eyes as he'd been forced to distance himself, standing cold and aloof from Minerva and Harry. As much as Snape had prepared himself, Harry's automatic thank you had caught him off guard. For a moment he had wanted to smile at the boy, instead he had forced himself to sneer, burying his own emotions deep behind a cold gaze. Slowly he moved away from the fireplace, attempting to keep his emotions in check.

The house was eerily quiet, the silence pressing down on Snape, making him uneasy. He had no desire to stay here, and in that moment his mind was made up. Hurrying upstairs he exchanged his teaching robes for simple muggle clothing, throwing a well-worn travelling cloak over the top. He knew he couldn't return to Hogwarts, but he'd be damned if he spent another moment in the house. Without further thought he disapparated.

XXXX

He'd frequented the '_Proud Hippogriff_' on numerous occasions, mostly whilst under the effects of Polyjuice Potion. This time he had simply transfigured several of his more distinguishing features. Nevertheless he remained vigilant, seated in the darkest corner of the pub, his hood up. The pub was one of the shadiest in Britain, where it was unusual for patrons to show their faces. If Dumbledore's corrupt Ministry officials existed, Snape would hear about it here.

He knew he was unlikely to learn much on a Sunday evening, but it was easier to sit in a rundown old pub then return to Spinner's End. At least this way he was doing something useful he thought to himself. Besides, it was much easier to lie to the Dark Lord when he had real memories to manipulate.

Unobserved Snape listened intently to numerous conversations as the hours passed by. Patrons found it easy to overlook the dark man in the corner as Snape was careful to always surround himself with empty glasses, feigning a slight sway and slurred speech. It helped that the people he was eavesdropping on were often rather drunk themselves, incapable of noticing that they hadn't actually seen the man raise a glass to his lips. People saw only what they wanted to see, which worked in Snape's favour. He knew he'd learn very little if the patrons ever realised he was stone cold sober.

He kept track of a number of individuals but two wizards in particular caught his attention. It was unusual for younger wizards to openly frequent the pub or for patrons to conduct business in such loud tones. Snape suspected they were newcomers. He followed their conversation closely but learnt little. It wasn't until well past midnight, when the two were leaving, that Snape learnt they were Ministry workers. Seizing his chance, Snape silently followed the drunken pair out of the pub.

Snape hadn't been the only one to follow the workers.

A group of thugs were waiting in the alleyway the pair had just turned into. Snape watched as the two wizards were roughly shoved up against the wall, one of them unfortunate enough to receive a fist to the face. Snape instantly moved into the shadows, disillusioning himself as he did so. He inched closer, curious to hear what the two wizards had done.

'You get one warning, and that was it' the leader of the thugs was saying. He was smaller than his companions but he had a cruel look about him, Snape noted.

'Pull another stunt like the one you pulled back there, in the pub, and it won't just be your nose we break. Mordin is paying good money to get your information. Screw him again and you'll wish you'd never been born.'

With that the leader gestured to his sidekicks, great brutes of men, who released the two wizards – with a parting gift of a kick to the groin – before the group disapparated. Snape listened as the two younger wizards wheezed and cursed loudly on the ground. The one with the broken nose stood up shakily, dragging his companion to his feet.

'You bloody idiot,' he complained bitterly as he tried to stem the bleeding. 'Why the hell did you suggest this pub! We should have stayed in London.'

'It's not my fault you moron,' the other slurred. 'You shouldn't have pissed off Mordin. What the hell were you thinking anyway? We're Ministry _aides_; Bones is hardly going to tell us anything that Mordin might find useful.'

'Look Tom, if we just get the stupid information they'll leave us alone.'

'I wish you'd never gotten us into this bloody mess in the first place!' Tom muttered uneasily as he staggered to retrieve their wands from the ground.

Having located their wands the two disapparated, leaving Snape alone in the alley. Snape waited a moment longer, knowing it would be unwise to linger in case someone was watching, before apparating to the entrance of Knockturn Alley.

XXXX

He wasn't sure what he'd overheard outside the _Proud Hippogriff_, but it sounded as though the Dark Lord was trying to infiltrate the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. A wise decision, Snape conceded, given it was the largest of the Ministry departments. Almost all of the departments had to report to Magical Law Enforcement at some point.

He did not know who the 'Mordin' character was, but it seemed likely that it was a Death Eater under an alias. He doubted Tom and his friend would be capable of handing over any useful information. Still it was cause for concern that 'Mordin' was recruiting so openly and seemingly so unselectively. Either the Death Eater running the show was incompetent – which Snape highly doubted – or they'd managed to corrupt deep into the department.

Despite the Dark Lord's current obsession with the prophecy, Snape knew that he very much wanted to have the Ministry under his control. Lucius Malfoy had after all been corrupting officials for years. No, Snape thought, the Dark Lord would not have assigned an incompetent to this task. Which meant the task was undoubtedly progressing well. It was troubling to consider that there were potentially highly influential officials already corrupted.

Sighing, Snape removed the disillusion charm before moving into Knockturn Alley. It was close to two in the morning but the time did not trouble Snape. He did not want to waste valuable time sleeping; besides the night was still young in Knockturn Alley. Confidently he entered the alleyway, if he was lucky he'd be able to visit several informants before morning.

XXXX

It was five am on Wednesday morning when Snape stumbled through his front door. There were deep bags beneath his eyes and dark stubble coloured his cheeks. He hadn't slept since Saturday evening. He'd spent the last sixty hours on the go, sustaining himself with a cocktail of stimulant potions to keep him on his feet. Eventually he'd realised he couldn't spend the entire week away from Spinner's End. He needed a few hours of decent sleep, a decent meal and a change of clothes. And so reluctantly he had returned home, after chasing up a final lead.

He dragged himself up the stairs and into the shower, catching sight of his haggard appearance in the bathroom mirror. He spent half an hour in the shower, cleaning himself thoroughly as he methodically catalogued the information he'd uncovered.

He'd been right – the corruption was already deep in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The worst of it was that he suspected he'd only scraped the surface. He'd spent hours bribing and cajoling informants who even then had given him very little to go on. The name 'Mordin' continued to pop up, but Snape steered clear. It would be awkward for him if he were to come to the attention of Death Eaters.

The best lead he'd gotten so far was that concerning a Pius Thicknesse. The man was apparently susceptible to bribes and was being targeted by several of Mordin's agents. Snape had made inquiries and learned that Thicknesse was quite high up in the Department. In fact he suspected that if something happened to Bones, Thicknesse would be the logical replacement. Particularly if a Death Eater managed to get an Imperius curse on him.

Tiredly Snape stepped from the shower. He briefly considered going to the kitchen for a proper meal but the task of preparing a meal was too daunting in his exhausted state. Instead he turned to his bedroom, collapsing on top of the duvet. Within seconds he was sound asleep.

XXXX

It was early evening when he finally awoke, feeling groggy and sick. Despite having slept for over twelve hours he was still exhausted. His stomach cramped painfully and he realised that was what had woken him. Slowly he made his way downstairs, dressed only in the loose pants and singlet he'd pulled on haphazardly before reaching his bed. He wanted to be out of Spinner's End as soon as possible so he settled on a simple broth given how sensitive his stomach had become from the prolonged fast.

As he entered the dining room his attention was caught by the teacup left incongruously on the table. Harry had been practising with the cup on Sunday, right before he'd left for Hogwarts. The boy had been so involved that Snape had had to ask him several times to bring his trunk downstairs. Harry had ignored him until the last minute, Snape recalled. Undoubtedly in his haste to find his trunk, Harry had forgotten to put the teacup away.

Snape sat down by the teacup, his hand automatically reaching out, turning the cup idly. His own desire to get as far away from Spinner's End had blinded him he realised. He'd been so intent on staying away from his home that he'd forgotten about Harry. Weeks ago he had made his decision: to pay the Dursleys a visit. For Harry's sake he needed to talk to them. He was horrified to think that he'd been about to leave Spinner's End once again; to throw himself back into the distraction of espionage.

He finished his meal quickly before grimly making his way upstairs once more. He'd spend the night at home, catching up on sleep before visiting the Dursleys in the morning he resolved. As he drifted off to sleep, a slight smile tugging at his lips, he wondered just when Harry's wellbeing had become so important to him.

XXXX

Snape turned onto Privet Drive, his feet dragging as he approached number four. It was an overcast morning and he assumed only Petunia would be home, but still he dreaded coming face to face with her once again. She had always known which choice acerbic remarks would cause the most damage to a self-conscious fifteen year old boy. Snape could only hope that twenty odd years apart had either reduced her ability or hardened his resolve.

He was wearing muggle clothing; a cheap suit and tie he'd picked up for some forgotten occasion. He had briefly considered robes but had decided it would be best not to antagonise Petunia. Apprehensively he approached the door, ringing the bell. Standing up to his full height, he watched through the distorted glass as a figure came to the door.

'Hello Petunia,' he said quietly to the woman before him.

Petunia Dursley was much as she once had been; blonde and horse-faced. She had aged far better than Snape himself had, he noted. Undoubtedly due to the easy existence the woman made for herself. He watched with amusement as Petunia's face moulded into the disdainful expression she had permanently worn in his presence, upon realising whom he was.

'What are you doing here?' she hissed at him.

'I thought I might come by and have a chat about Harry with you,' Snape said airily, enjoying the look of horror that crossed Petunia's face at the mention of Harry.

'What?' she spluttered. 'Why would you have any interest in that boy? You cut my sister out of your life long ago.'

Snape froze at the mention of Lily, a triumphant gleam entering Petunia's eye as she realised the effect of her words.

'Oh I haven't forgotten Snape, if that's what you'd thought,' Petunia continued. 'How could I forget the pathetic oddball that corrupted my sister? You had no place in our family Snape; it's just a pity it took Lily almost six years to work that out.'

'Enough!' Snape bit out angrily, his temper rising as Petunia's remarks hit home. 'I am a teacher at Hogwarts now. That is why I know your nephew. Now, if you wouldn't mind it would perhaps be _prudent_ to continue this discussion inside,' Snape said coldly. 'After all, it would be rude to disrupt your neighbours further,' he added pointedly, glancing towards number six.

Petunia's eyes widened in alarm as she finally noticed number six's interest in their discussion. She forced a cheerful expression before putting on a show of welcoming Snape in, for number six's benefit. As soon as the door shut Petunia's scowl returned as she bitingly ordered Snape into the kitchen. Without invitation Snape seated himself in one of the kitchen chairs, earning a glare from Petunia, which he simply ignored.

'Well?' Petunia finally asked after several minutes of silence. 'What has the boy been saying?'

'_Harry_ hasn't been saying anything,' Snape began disparagingly. 'No, your nephew's living arrangements came to my attention a few weeks ago after he was involved in an incident. I won't bore you with the details, most of which it is unlikely you would be able to comprehend. Suffice it to say that I am now entirely aware of the welcome he receives in this household.'

Snape glared coldly at Petunia, long enough to confirm that Petunia understood precisely what he was saying. He watched with satisfaction as Petunia flushed, fidgeting nervously.

'We did not ask for him,' she finally bit out in justification.

'No,' Snape admitted. 'But that does not excuse what you have done. Ten years Petunia, you locked him in a cupboard for _ten years_. What the hell were you thinking?' he suddenly roared angrily. 'What possible reason could you have for locking a child up? A _child!_'

Petunia tried to cut across him, but this seemed to only make Snape angrier.

'No,' he yelled. 'Don't you dare justify this with your 'magic' bullshit. You grew up with Lily, you knew perfectly well what to expect. If your positions had been reversed, if _you_ had died, Lily would have taken your child in without a second thought. She would have loved him as her own, Petunia.'

Snape was breathing heavily now and realised he was standing. Getting his breathing under control he looked across at Petunia. She was gazing at him icily, apparently unfazed by his anger.

'You could never love him though could you?' he asked quietly. 'He's too much like Lily, in more ways than you could ever imagine. You were always jealous of her.'

'How dare you,' Petunia began furiously, her face white with rage but Snape ignored her.

'Admit it Petunia,' Snape goaded, delighted to have turned the tables on Petunia. 'You've spent your entire life looking down on Lily. You were the eldest, yet she outshone you from the moment she was born. Is that why you locked him away? You hated your sister so much that you couldn't stand the thought of looking after her only child?'

'What do you want me to say?' Petunia hissed. 'I never asked for this, the boy was simply left on our doorstep. I took him in. I gave him a roof over his head; I gave him the protection he needed.'

She paused for a moment, staring at her pristine countertop.

'I cannot love him though,' she finally whispered. 'If you've come here to ask me to love the boy, I cannot do that. I can give him whatever protection Dumbledore designed for him, that is all.'

'You disgust me,' Snape snarled. 'Your nephew has known only negligence here Petunia and yet you cannot admit your wrongdoing. You lock him away and you starve him. No child should suffer such,' he finished vehemently.

'You have ensured your hatred for Lily destroyed any childhood Harry could have hoped for.' Snape said after a moment's pause.

'She was _my _sister,' Petunia suddenly screamed. 'You cannot understand Snape, you had no siblings. You took her from me; you, the scrawny boy from the slums of Cokeworth. Before you came along Lily and I spent every moment together. She looked up to me and I protected her. From the moment you entered our lives I became different. I was simply the older sister. The muggle, as you used to call me. Before that Lily and I were the same. It was you who _made_ me different. I wasn't able to join in your silly games; I didn't understand your _stupid_ world. Lily was the only one good enough for you. I watched you Snape. I saw the way you looked at her, even back then when Lily was too young to understand what she was to you.'

Snape paled as he stood rigidly before Petunia. She spoke the truth, he'd ignored Petunia from the moment he'd met her. He had thought of her as a simple muggle. At first Lily had wanted to include Petunia in their games, but he had dissuaded her. He'd wanted Lily for himself. He hadn't wanted a muggle interfering. Still he'd had no idea that Petunia had watched them; had grown jealous that she had never been included. How could she have possibly realised, he thought furiously to himself. How could Petunia Evans know his greatest secret? Lily had never realised.

'But I know what you did,' Petunia continued. 'You never saw her the day she came back from her fifth year. It was one of the last times we spoke to each other as sisters. You called her a Mudblood.'

Petunia smirked victoriously as Snape visibly stiffened at the word.

'You were her best friend, yet you turned on her without a moment's hesitation. Lily was devastated; you'd always told her it never mattered. But I knew you better. You'd looked down on me from the moment we met, simply because I was a muggle. I loved my sister before she met you Snape, and I will always love my sister. I hated how you changed her, and I still do. You cannot understand a sibling's love Snape. It wasn't Lily who died that night, it was my sister. Something which I can never completely come to terms with. So, do _not_ come into my home and accuse me of hating Lily,' she finished coldly, breathing heavily.

Snape sat stonily at the table, his face a blank mask. Petunia's words had once more worked their way beneath his armour, cutting at him ruthlessly. His mistakes were so obvious in hindsight he thought detachedly. How he wished he could take back that single word. _Mudblood_. It echoed in his head, a relentless mantra. Minutes passed as he wallowed in self-pity, until he recalled the reason for his visit. He was here for Harry. Petunia's tirade may have explained her behaviour towards Lily but he could not understand her treatment of her nephew.

'Regardless of your feelings towards Lily, you have abused Harry,' he began menacingly. 'His placement here is beyond my control, but rest assured should you _ever_ harm him again, be it starvation or isolation, I will intervene Petunia.'

He shifted his jacket slightly, allowing Petunia to catch sight of his wand stowed in an inner pocket. He watched as her eyes widened slightly as she understood the threat.

'The boy is nothing to us,' she continued resolutely. 'You are welcome to him.'

'As much as I wish to have him removed from your care,' Snape bit out, 'I cannot become his guardian.'

His own admission shocked him for a moment, but it was true he realised. He would have become Harry's guardian in a heartbeat if it meant he could remove Harry from his relatives.

'He should have been a second son to you Petunia,' Snape said as he silently moved towards the hallway. Petunia was beyond reasoning with he'd realised. Still he had warned her, and he would carry through.

'He deserves better than you,' he said as he passed Petunia, moving to the front door.

'He was never beaten here though.'

It was a last ditch attempt on his self-confidence, but it worked.

'What?' Snape asked before he could stop himself.

'You were always turning up with odd bruises,' she said cruelly, enjoying Snape's reaction to her words. 'Sometimes you hid them but we could all tell. You moved more gingerly when they were hidden. Lily never knew for sure that your father abused you, but I did.'

'What are you talking about?' Snape growled, trying to sound detached but failing miserably.

'The start of the holidays, just after your fourth year at that freak school.'

Petunia paused for effect, watching as all remaining colour drained from Snape's face. _How did she know_, he thought desperately. He was sure only Mr and Mrs Evans had seen him that night.

'It was almost midnight when you came round. You rang the doorbell, that's what woke me up. Lily was always a deep sleeper, she didn't wake. I don't know who my father expected to be calling at that hour, but it certainly wasn't you,' she said derisively.

'I moved onto the landing when I heard dad cry out in alarm,' she continued. 'I could see the doorstep from where I was standing. You'd fainted on the doorstep. I watched my dad carry you into the kitchen, covered in blood and already bruising. Your arm was so badly broken that the bones were pushing through and you'd been hit over the head at some point.'

Petunia's eyes had taken on a glazed look, and Snape realised she truly was recalling that terrible evening.

'My parents were horrified.' Petunia's tone had softened somewhat, but it was still cruel. 'They spent ten minutes splinting your arm before dad carried you to the car. They both needed to go with you; dad to drive and mum to hold your arm steady. So Mum came upstairs to wake me and found me on the landing.'

She paused for a moment, watching the frozen man before her.

'I stayed up for the rest of the night,' she continued, 'waiting for my parents to return. Mum came home at six the next morning, after waiting to see you safely out of surgery. You'd had surgery to fix your arm and some internal bleeding. You were still unconscious when she'd left but dad had stayed with you. They'd decided overnight not to tell Lily. It would be up to you to tell her, and I was sworn to secrecy. Lily was told only that you'd broken your arm that morning, near our house, and so dad had taken you to hospital.'

The story was finished, but Petunia wasn't.

'I heard what my parents said as they splinted your arm. You never said anything but they knew it was your father. I may not love my nephew, but I would never allow him to be harmed as you were. He has a better home here than you ever had,' she finished spitefully.

Snape did not know how long he remained standing there. He was in shock. He had not expected to have to relive that particular memory. Petunia let him stand though, simply gazing at him coldly. Twenty years had not changed a single thing, Snape realised. Petunia would always be able to cut him down, she simply knew too much about him. Finally he broke away from her gaze, turning to open the front door. He paused for a moment, the door partially open.

'It's having people who care for you. That's what makes a good home,' he said desolately, his back still to Petunia.

Without another word he stepped out the door, not looking back.

XXXX

For a long while he simply walked aimlessly, not caring where he was, as Petunia's words played over and over in his head. He was unaware of the rain, slowly soaking him to the skin.

He remembered little of that night. It had been the first week home from Hogwarts and Snape had been avoiding his father. Tobias Snape had always been particularly volatile at the start of the holidays. If he was lucky Severus would get away with only cruel jibes and disgust from his father. The night Petunia had recalled though had been the worst Severus had ever suffered. It was humiliating to know that she had seen him at his weakest.

Severus had been up in his room when the yelling had started. His father had arrived home late, drunk and irritable. To this day Severus could not recall what had started the row. He'd ignored the yelling initially, used to his parent's frequent fights. It was the sound of his mother crying out in pain though that had driven him to leave the sanctuary of his room. When he'd entered the kitchen he'd found his father beating his mother viciously. He had hesitated for the briefest of moments before throwing himself at his father.

He had been fifteen at the time; less than half the weight of Tobias Snape and not quite as tall. His father had simply seized him effortlessly, pummelling his son without remorse. Severus had never forgotten the hatred in the man's eyes as he'd yelled abuse at his son; blaming him for everything that had gone wrong in his life.

Eventually Tobias had gone too far. His fist had connected with the side of Severus' face. He'd lost consciousness for an instant, his vision distorting and his ear's ringing. The blow to the head had confused him and allowed his father to drag him towards the door. As his father threw him from the house, intent on banning his son forever, Snape's arm had caught in the railing, pinning it at an odd angle. The bones had snapped easily, given the force Tobias had employed to rid himself of his son. Snape recalled the horrifying and sickening sensation he had felt upon comprehending his arm. He had seen only a bloody mess; a foreign protrusion where his arm should have been.

He'd blacked out then, for how long he did not know. The rest of the evening was a haze of pain and desperation, as in a state of confusion he'd made his way to the Evans home. The last thing he remembered was the feeling of relief as he rang the doorbell before he'd lost consciousness.

He'd woken up the next morning in a hospital bed, Mr Evans stretched out asleep in a bedside chair. Snape's head had been throbbing and his arm had felt stiff and awkward. He'd realised then with horror that he'd been subjected to muggle treatment. He'd been so confused he'd tried to rip the drip out of his arm, causing enough of a commotion to wake Lily's father. Mr Evans had calmed him easily enough, before gently explaining the situation to Severus.

Snape could not recall a time he had felt more embarrassed, but Mr Evans had not judged him. He'd simply looked after him.

Snape had spent a week in hospital before the Evans had, against their better judgement, returned him to his home at his insistence. The worst part had been his mother's reaction. She had looked over him coldly, eyeing the muggle cast distastefully, before telling Severus he had been a fool to involve himself in their argument. The pain he had suffered at his father's hand was nothing compared to the pain he had felt at his mother's disdain.

Snape had never told Lily the true circumstances surrounding his injury. He'd invented some silly story about tripping down stairs but he'd gotten the impression Lily had never quite believed him. Still she had not questioned him, and for that Severus had always been grateful.

Eventually Snape stopped walking. He was in an unfamiliar neighbourhood, and it was starting to get dark. He didn't want to go home though. At the moment he couldn't bear to return to the house where it had all happened. Despite the fact he'd removed the railing the moment he'd inherited the house. He wanted to be somewhere safe. The thought consumed him, and without further thought he turned on the spot, disapparating.

XXXX

He was back at the playground; the place where he had first seen her. Automatically he moved towards the swings. Without hesitating he sat on the wet seat, gently swinging himself. Longingly he looked at the empty swing beside him, wishing he could go back and change his life. Alter the decisions he'd made and to fix the numerous mistakes.

Petunia had been worse than he'd imagined, he thought darkly. She could still see through him, was still capable of shredding his self confidence with the simplest of words. He had accomplished nothing by visiting Petunia, he thought to himself. He hadn't solved Harry's problems. He'd spent more time dealing with his own than Harry's.

'He can't go back,' he muttered aloud.

Harry deserved so much more than he'd been given. Harry had suffered so much already. Snape would be damned if he let the boy suffer further. He had no idea what he would do, but Snape made the decision – as he sat drenched to the skin, in an old park where he and Lily Evans had once played – that he would do all in his power to give Harry the opportunity for something better.

Darkness had fallen, yet Snape remained on the swing. The man was unaware of his surrounding as he dealt with his tumultuous thoughts. Eventually he drifted into an uneasy sleep, feeling at peace, for the first time in a long while. He was safe here.

XXXX

'Sir,' a voice called distantly.

A not so gentle shove brought Snape back to the land of the living. Opening his eyes slowly, allowing them to adjust to the brightness of the morning light, Snape took in his surroundings. Two police officers stood before him, and it had been the nudging of a police baton which had woken Snape. In the distance Snape spied a group of women with strollers, watching the scene intently.

'This is council property sir,' the younger officer addressed him. 'There have been several complaints about your presence in this park. If you do not move along you may be charged with loitering and wasting police time.'

Snape scowled, he'd stupidly fallen asleep. Undoubtedly the women with the strollers had taken him for a drunken homeless man, which would explain the police presence.

'Alright, I'm going,' he replied irritably.

Stiffly he got up from the swing, before being escorted by the officers to the edge of the council property. With a parting warning from the older officer, Snape made his way down a dead end before disapparating on the spot and returning to Spinner's End.

'I need a bloody drink,' he muttered as he stormed into the house.

The last twenty four hours had been extremely trying for Snape. It was Friday though, which meant he only had to endure another two nights before he could return to Hogwarts. He briefly considered resuming his information gathering but decided against it. He was too highly strung at present to commit to that activity. Entering his room he moved straight to his wardrobe. He'd moved his remaining liquor stores there after Harry had disposed of his Firewhiskey the first week he had arrived. Without looking he reached into the back of the wardrobe seizing the first bottle he touched.

Snape nearly dropped the bottle in surprise when he realised it was empty. Confused he lit his wand, shedding light over the entire wardrobe, to find all of his bottles empty.

'What in Merlin's name,' he growled.

A sheath of parchment caught his attention, deftly he withdrew it.

_Professor Snape,_

_I emptied all your bottles whilst you were unconscious. I'm not sorry, but I will reimburse you when I get the chance. You're not your father._

_Harry_

Snape read the note several times, his anger dissipating each time he read it. Harry hadn't said it but Snape realised Harry had to have done it the night Snape had made his way up to his parent's room. It was astonishing to consider that Harry had still been thinking of Snape's wellbeing, even whilst he was hurt. A small smile twitched at Snape's lips. The boy was certainly audacious. Snape tucked the note into his inner pocket. Remarkably, Harry's note had restored Snape's confidence. He would be fine.

XXXX

The remainder of Snape's time at Spinner's End passed quickly and without incidence. It was Sunday afternoon now, and Snape finally felt that he could return to Hogwarts. Wearing his familiar black school robes, Snape closed the door behind him. Without looking back he disapparated.

The sight of the castle, as the carriage made its winding way up from Hogsmeade, warmed Snape. He was finally home.

XXXX

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I'd be interested to hear your views on my Snape/Petunia conversation. Sorry if that disappointed some of you but I've never been a fan of Snape punishing the Dursleys with magic. For two reason: namely I don't think there is some all encompassing spell that he could just put them under and secondly I think it's a little too close to acting as an actual Death Eater if he were to use magic against them (and my character isn't like that).

I also think that Petunia is possibly the one person who can give as good as she gets with Snape. She's older than him and she's known him since he was a boy. Personally I think that gives her a lot of power over Snape. I think she's probably the only character who knows more about Snape than he would care to admit. I honestly think it's a pity they didn't meet again in canon. Anyway I'm very interested as to everyone's views. I will admit the chapter was hard to right. I tried to find a balance where Snape was in control (at the start of the conversation) and when he wasn't. But ultimately Petunia played the last card and I think that's very typical of her. I also think Petunia has suppressed all of this for a long time which I believe justifies her outburst. I think it's probably similar to how she handled revealing Harry's heritage.

Next chapter we'll be back at Hogwarts again. A week out from OWLs :) Until then!


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17_ 26th May - 13th June 1996_

Snape supposed he ought to inform Umbridge of his return, he thought as he entered the Entrance Hall. He crossed to the main stairs, his footsteps ringing eerily in the deserted Entrance Hall. It seemed most of the students had taken the opportunity to study outside, enjoying the fine weather. The silence was broken as he reached the second floor where several students were moving through the corridors. To Snape's astonishment all of the students stared at him in awe, and if he wasn't mistaken _relief_. He was unnerved to say the least and simply scowled at all of them, regardless of House. Bizarrely it seemed the students were even more relieved to see the familiar sneer, smiling at Snape as though the world had been put to right.

'What in Merlin's name is going on here?' Snape muttered to himself as a third Gryffindor student beamed at him.

Reaching Umbridge's office he stopped outside the door, eyeing the ostentatious 'Headmistress' sign with distaste before knocking. Receiving a sickeningly sweet 'Enter' in response Snape stepped through into Umbridge's office. The overwhelming assault of pink accessories to his senses renewed his distaste for the woman.

'Severus,' Umbridge squawked, almost falling out of her chair in obvious surprise.

'Headmistress,' Snape replied smoothly.

He was careful to keep his face blank, despite his amusement, as he watched Umbridge hastily reseat herself.

'I wasn't expecting you back,' Umbridge said hastily after an awkward pause.

'My affairs took less time than I expected,' Snape explained shortly, watching Umbridge's frustration increase at his unforthcoming answers.

'Be that as it may Severus,' Umbridge pouted, 'you _did_ say you were returning in June.'

'My apologies Headmistress,' Snape began. 'I asked for leave _until_ June. I merely wished to ensure I had ample time to complete my business. Surely your replacement was aware that I would be returning?' he asked guardedly.

'Oh, of course Melissa was aware,' Dolores replied haughtily.

Snape wondered if that were true. He suspected Umbridge had very much hoped that he would not return given the frosty welcome he had received so far.

'Perhaps though Severus,' Umbridge continued hopefully, 'it might be best for the students if Melissa remained for the next week. We wouldn't want to interrupt their studies so close to OWLs and NEWTs. After all you _have_ been away for a long time,' Umbridge added, almost to herself.

'I hardly think that necessary Headmistress,' Snape answered coldly.

Umbridge started at his abrupt tone, clearly wishing to protest against his abrupt interruption. The protest died on her lips though as Snape simply stared unblinkingly at her. Unable to hold his gaze she dropped her own.

'Perhaps you're right,' Umbridge said unsurely. 'I'm sure Melissa will be happy to step aside.'

'As you say Headmistress,' Snape said easily. 'I shall resume my classes tomorrow.'

'See that you do Snape,' Umbridge snapped, trying desperately to regain control of the discussion.

'Of course Headmistress,' Snape said politely as he left her office.

XXXX

The woman is a complete nightmare, Snape thought to himself as he made his way to the staff room. It was traditional for the staff to assemble there prior to the Sunday evening meal. The majority of the staff used the time to relax before the new week began. The Heads of House however, generally used the time to liaise, discussing any inter-house issues that had arisen in the past week. It was one of the few things Snape enjoyed each week. Usually there were few issues serious enough to warrant long discussion and often their discussions simply turned to other matters. In particular Minerva and Severus had a habit of debating all manner of topics; a practice, Severus was sure, both Filius and Pomona found incredibly tiresome. Snape smiled to himself as he recalled a particularly heated argument he and Minerva had had regarding an obscure Ministry decree pertaining to House Elf employment. He was still unsure as to just whom had won that particular argument.

As he entered the staff room a deafening silence fell as the occupants turned to see the newcomer. It was obvious that they had not been expecting anyone else. The idea amused Snape given both Umbridge and his replacement were missing from the gathering.

'Severus!' exclaimed several people at once, in both surprise and to his own confusion, _joy_.

'Thank Merlin you're back,' Minerva of all people greeted him loudly, her voice cutting across the room from the secluded corner the Heads of House had claimed.

'I wasn't aware that you cared,' Snape replied silkily into the silence that had descended at Minerva's frank declaration.

He watched with amusement as Minerva scowled at him half-heartedly, clearly too bemused to reprimand him. Conversation started up again, and Snape made his way swiftly across the room to seat himself in his usual chair.

'It's your ability to teach that I've missed,' Minerva said dryly once he was seated. Although Snape could tell she did seem genuinely pleased to see him.

'She's right Severus,' Filius squeaked beside him. 'The whole school has felt your loss. I've had to deal with daily complaints from my students since Whitestone arrived. The fifth years in particular have been most vocal. They are quite concerned that they will fail their Potion OWL.'

Snape raised an eyebrow. Surely Umbridge had not replaced him with someone that incompetent. Filius' comment triggered a tirade of abuse from Minerva about Whitestone, preventing Snape from voicing his questions.

'It's good to see you Severus,' Pomona said quietly from his other side, patting him genially on his shoulder as Minerva and Filius continued to discuss Whitestone. 'We have certainly missed your presence these last few weeks. I think Minerva has quite missed arguing with you to be honest, and that _is _saying something.'

Snape smirked at that. He doubted Minerva would ever willingly admit to that.

'I'm glad to be back,' Severus replied honestly.

Minerva and Filius stopped talking, looking over at Severus curiously. It was rare for the man to speak so candidly.

'Just what has been going on since I left?' he asked wryly, into the surprised silence.

XXXX

For almost forty minutes Snape sat in silence, listening as Minerva, Filius, and Pomona explained the situation to him. It was certainly not what he had expected and not something Dumbledore had anticipated. Snape would definitely have his work cut out for him this week if he were to have any chance of catching the fifth and seventh years up. Filius assured him that most students had taken to tutoring themselves, so perhaps the situation was not as dire as it sounded, Snape thought to himself.

It seemed that Umbridge's control over the school had continued to slip further since his departure. Students were rebelling constantly according to Minerva. In particular Snape couldn't help but admire the Weasley twins, after hearing about their expulsion from Hogwarts. The two had certainly been irritating to teach; often brewing their own potions rather than the one he had set the class. Still, he could not deny that they were actually quite able at Potions when they put their minds to it.

Satisfied that he was aware of everything he had missed, the Heads of House stood to make their way to dinner. A frosty voice stopped Snape though as he made his way to the door.

'Severus, a word if you please,' Poppy commanded.

Confused, Snape moved to the side, allowing the remainder of the staff to file out until only Poppy and he remained.

'Is something the matter?' Snape asked hesitantly.

'If you_ ever_ leave your position again, without first ensuring there is a competent replacement, I swear Severus, _you' _she stressed, poking him hard in the chest, 'will be the one dealing with the aftermath!' Poppy fumed.

Seeing Severus still seemed confused Poppy continued to rant.

'Honestly Severus, in all my years here not once,' she paused, '_not once_, have I been this busy. I've had students injured by exploding cauldrons coming in daily. The first two weeks were the worst. I had almost an entire class of first years at one point. Thankfully the older students learnt quickly to be more vigilant with their cauldrons, since _you _weren't around to watch them,' she added accusingly.

Snape simply stood stoically, allowing her to air her frustrations. He understood how hard it would have been if there was an incompetent Potions Professor. Students, when they believed themselves out of his earshot, often complained of his 'prowling' during class. What they didn't understand was that he was actually ensuring that they were safe at all times.

'It seems now that only the younger years are still being involved in accidents. Although poor Harry managed to get on the wrong side of an explosion his first day back,' she added as an afterthought.

'Is he alright?' Snape asked quickly, genuinely concerned.

Poppy gave him an odd look, which Snape missed, before answering.

'He's fine Severus,' she said gently.

Snape nodded stiffly in response. Poppy got the feeling he was rather preoccupied with his thoughts.

'Perhaps we should go to dinner now,' she suggested calmly.

Snape agreed readily, holding the door so that she could precede him out of the staff room. It seemed most students were already in the Great Hall, Snape noted as they crossed the Entrance Hall. The sound of the castle doors opening though caught his attention. Three students slipped into the Entrance Hall and hastily made their way towards the Great Hall. Snape realised with a start that it was Harry and his two friends. Harry looked well, but he seemed to be rather distracted. Suddenly the boy turned, staring directly at Snape, as though he had realised he was being watched.

Harry stopped dead, taking in the sight of Snape before him. The man looked well, which relieved Harry greatly. He had been worried that Snape would do something stupid whilst alone at Spinner's End but it seemed he had not. He almost smiled at Snape, before he remembered where he was. Stopping himself just in time, he forced himself to conceal his emotions, staring blankly at the man before him.

Snape watched as Harry visibly tried to control his emotions, unaware that Ron, Hermione and Poppy were all studying their interaction closely.

'Sir –' Harry began.

Snape groaned inwardly, he thought Harry had understood the importance of the roles they each had to play. Whatever the boy wanted to say, Snape could not be seen interacting with him.

'Get to dinner Potter,' he spat out angrily, his tone colouring with real frustration at Harry's actions.

Snape forced himself to sneer at the boy, for good measure. Harry hid his shock well, Snape admitted grudgingly but he could see the hurt in his eyes. The boy shut his mouth quickly before turning on the spot and stalking off, leaving his two surprised friends to catch him up.

'Severus,' Poppy chastised, 'he only wanted to ask you something!'

Snape turned on her, scowling darkly.

'The boy is nothing to me Poppy,' he snapped.

He did not wait for Poppy to reply, instead turning and entering the Great Hall. For a moment Poppy remained speechless outside. There was something different about Harry and Severus, she was sure of it. And she was determined to get to the bottom of it.

XXXX

Snape fiddled moodily with his food, pushing beans around his plate as the meal dragged on. He very much wanted to retire to his rooms for the night. Despite having just returned he had been allocated the early morning patrol duty; undoubtedly Umbridge's idea of revenge. To add to his frustrations he'd ended up seated next to the blasted woman, who was deep in conversation with Melissa Whitestone. Snape had not been introduced but he had noticed the glares he'd received from both Whitestone and Umbridge periodically throughout the meal. However they seemed to be discussing something much more serious now he noted. Whatever it was, Umbridge seemed quite frustrated by it. Automatically he listened intently to the remainder of the conversation.

'Well I assigned him a week's worth,' Whitestone was saying. 'But obviously I can't do that anymore.'

'Yes, yes,' Umbridge said hurriedly, 'but I can't take him for the full week. I'm too busy organising for the examinations to supervise the brat every night.'

'Perhaps if you simply took him for an extra long session tonight?' Whitestone suggested. 'The fool seems to be struggling to learn his lesson after all.'

'Hmm,' Umbridge considered, 'yes that would probably be best.'

Their conversation turned and Snape stopped listening, instead mulling over what he had heard. Unconsciously his eyes were drawn to Harry, who seemed to be holding conference with his two friends. A sense of unease filled him at the idea that Umbridge had been discussing Harry. That somehow Harry had earned himself yet more detentions with the woman. He'd just have to hope Harry would come to him, as he had asked. Snape was about to turn away when Harry suddenly looked up. If he saw Snape looking at him he did not let on, instead simply returning his attention to his friends. Sighing, Snape left the table, exiting the Great Hall via the teacher's side door. Alone he made his way to his private rooms, intent on getting a few hours sleep before his patrol started at one o-clock.

XXXX

Harry scowled into his plate as he surreptitiously watched Snape slip out of the Great Hall. He'd spent most of dinner discussing Snape in hushed tones with Ron and Hermione. Ron was having a hard time believing Snape had changed in the slightest. Hermione had of course given Snape the benefit of the doubt, but Harry could tell she was struggling to believe it also. Harry had insisted repeatedly that he had changed, that it was all an act, but even he was beginning to doubt it.

When they'd met in the Entrance Hall, Harry had wanted to ask Snape if they could speak in private. His conscience had gotten the better of him and he had planned to tell Snape that he'd ended up in detention again. The look Snape had given him though had driven away all thoughts of confiding in Snape. It had been one of pure loathing – a look Harry had not seen for almost six weeks. He'd known the risk he was taking though. He could hardly be seen asking for Snape, despite the circumstances.

Harry was just standing to leave for the common room when he was stopped.

'Hem, hem,' coughed Umbridge behind him.

Turning on the spot, Harry came face to face with the toad-like woman.

'Professor Whitestone is unable to supervise the remainder of your detentions,' she simpered. 'You will report to my office in half an hour to serve your final detention.'

'Yes Headmistress,' Harry answered dutifully.

Satisfied, Umbridge bustled off leaving Harry with Ron and Hermione.

'Harry you should tell –' Hermione began worriedly.

'Don't start,' Harry cut across her. 'It's not worth it. You heard her I've just got to do tonight.'

Hermione still didn't seem convinced but Ron nudged her, silently warning her to drop it. They could both see Harry was very much on edge this evening. Both of them suspected it had everything to do with Snape's return; but Harry was saying little.

'Look, let's just go up to the common room and get some study done before I have to go,' Harry said apologetically after a moment, running his hand across his face in a gesture of weariness.

XXXX

Harry's hand was bleeding profusely when he finally left Umbridge's office. It was past two in the morning he realised tiredly as he transfigured a spare piece of parchment into a handkerchief. Awkwardly he bound his hand with the handkerchief, astounded when the material turned red in a matter of minutes. Cradling his hand protectively to his body he moved away from Umbridge's office, intent on returning to Gryffindor Tower.

As he climbed the staircase his hand gave a painful tweak and Harry bit back a gasp. He was beginning to regret his insistence that Hermione and Ron not wait up for him. Harry had expected the detention to run later than usual, given it was a substitute for the five detentions he would not be serving. Still, even he had not predicted that Umbridge would keep him for almost six hours. He would just have to hope Hermione had left out some Murtlap Essence.

Harry reached the seventh floor, the pain in his hand becoming distracting. Without looking where he was going he rounded a corner, stopping abruptly as he collided with a wall of black. Stumbling backwards Harry managed to steady himself against the corridor wall, just as the person he had collided with lit their wand.

'Potter,' Snape growled furiously. 'What are you doing out of bed at this hour?'

'Err – just taking a walk,' Harry lied halfheartedly.

Harry could tell Snape was not convinced. The man looked him over, immediately noticing his hidden right hand.

'Show me your hand Potter,' Snape demanded quietly, although his tone lacked its previous malice.

Reluctantly Harry withdrew his hand from his robe, revealing the bloodstained handkerchief. An odd look passed over Snape's face as he caught sight of the makeshift bandage – almost a look of sorrow Harry realised – it was gone though almost immediately.

'Follow me Potter,' Snape said stiffly, turning suddenly and making his way to the stairs.

Harry had no choice but to follow, cursing himself inwardly that _Snape_ of all people had caught him out of bed tonight. He watched as Snape's robes billowed about him as the man set a quick pace, leading Harry to the dungeons.

They reached Snape's office, the man standing aside to allow Harry through first. Harry turned expectantly, waiting for Snape's tirade; but the man said nothing. Instead he simply crossed the room to another door Harry had never noticed before. Opening it, he wordlessly gestured for Harry to go through. Hesitantly Harry stepped through into a sitting room.

Harry looked around him with interest; this room was far more homely than its counterpart at Spinner's End. Dust was distinctly lacking, and Harry was surprised to find it rather well lit in comparison. Unsurprisingly bookshelves lined the walls. There were fewer than Spinner's End but the tomes they housed were clearly used regularly. A sofa resided in the centre of the room, but it had an unused look about it. Harry got the feeling very few people had seen Severus Snape's private rooms. However, beside the sofa, in prime position near the fireplace, was a comfortable looking armchair. Harry could tell it was obviously used regularly by Snape.

'Sit down Harry,' Snape said wearily as he moved to seat himself in the armchair.

Harry started at the sudden change in Snape's manner. It seemed Snape had no problem switching between roles. Still Snape's abrupt concern made him uneasy, and he warily seated himself on the sofa.

'Show me your hand,' Snape said gently, leaning forward as he held his hand out expectantly.

Cautiously Harry placed his right hand in Snape's waiting hand. With great care Snape undid the handkerchief. Dried blood caked the wounds but the words _I must not tell lies_ were still visible. Snape stared fixedly at the words, a myriad of emotions passing across his unguarded face. Feeling as though he were intruding on something private Harry turned his own attention to the words, focusing on them detachedly.

'Harry, I asked you to tell me if you were being forced to continue this,' Snape struggled to find the right word for a moment, '..._torture_.'

'You weren't here,' Harry replied quietly, still staring at his hand.

'You mean this isn't the only detention you've had this week?' Snape asked sharply.

Harry simply nodded his head, not meeting Snape's gaze.

'Damn it Harry,' the man cried, startling Harry with his outburst. 'You should have come to me this evening. I can't help you if I don't know!'

'I was going to,' Harry began indignantly. 'I _tried_ to stop you in the Entrance Hall to ask if we could talk somewhere private but _you_ told me to go away.'

Snape frowned for a moment, Harry's response surprising him. He could see the hurt in the boy's eyes though, even now. It seemed he had misjudged Harry. He had thought at the time that the boy had forgotten where they were when he had approached him in the Entrance Hall, and so Snape had dismissed him. He should have realised Harry understood the risks they were taking and would not slip up. It had also been remiss of him to underestimate Umbridge. He should have known for sure it was Harry she had been discussing at dinner.

'Harry,' Snape began, intending to apologise. 'I'm...'

'It's fine,' Harry cut in suddenly.

He didn't need to hear Snape's apology. It was enough that Snape was listening now.

Snape nodded stiffly; grateful for Harry's understanding.

'Wait here,' Snape said, getting up suddenly.

Within moments he had returned with a small dish. Harry immediately recognised the substance within as Murtlap Essence.

'I'm still on patrol duty,' Snape said briskly, ensuring Harry's hand was immersed in the dish sufficiently.

'You'll need to soak your hand for a good half hour,' he instructed, as he stood to leave. 'Go back to your dormitory once you've done that. I'll see you after dinner tomorrow,' he added as he left the room.

Already Harry could feel the soothing affects of the Murtlap Essence. It was calming, particularly after the stress Harry had been feeling the past week. Studying for his OWLs was taking up all his time. He had taken to staying up late in the hope of having a quieter working environment. Both the library and the common room and been packed for the past week and Harry was finding it difficult to study effectively. Staying up late was beginning to catch up with him though and without meaning to he shut his eyes. Within minutes he was asleep; stretched out on Snape's couch, his hand still immersed in Murtlap Essence.

XXXX

Snape prowled the corridors, but they were silent. It was rare for students to be found out of bed at this time in the morning. Checking the kitchens one final time Snape turned back to his own rooms. It was coming up to three thirty as he entered his office; he hoped Harry had already gone up to bed. Stepping tiredly into his sitting room he was surprised to find his sofa still occupied by the dark-haired teen.

Approaching the sofa he found an exhausted Harry, deeply asleep. His head was resting on his chest, in what had to be an uncomfortable position. Snape could tell Harry needed a good night's sleep and he was reluctant to deny him, particularly after Umbridge had had the boy carving up his own hand for half the night. Half-heartedly Snape tried to raise him but Harry did not stir. Without further thought Snape vanished the Murtlap Essence before gently picking up the teenager.

Carrying Harry he made his way down a short corridor and into the guest bedroom. With a flick of his wand the covers were pulled down on the bed, before he deposited the gangly teen in the centre of the bed. Harry mumbled something incoherent in his sleep as Snape pulled the covers up. Frowning, Snape took a moment to inspect Harry's hand. The Murtlap Essence had reduced the inflammation, but the scars still appeared tender. Sighing, Snape removed Harry's glasses, placing them on the bedside table, before automatically carding his hand through the boy's hair. Turning, he left the room silently for his own.

XXXX

Snape woke a few hours later, not looking forward to the day ahead. From what he had been told he had a very busy week ahead of him. Stepping out of his room he crossed to the guest room where Harry was still asleep. Approaching the teen he gently shook him awake.

'Up you get Harry,' he said bemusedly, watching as Harry looked around sleepily.

'What time is it?' Harry yawned, sitting up and fumbling for his glasses.

'Almost seven, you'll have time for a shower if you hurry,' Snape instructed. 'You fell asleep on my sofa last night,' he added in explanation as Harry looked around his surroundings with confusion.

'You looked like you needed the sleep, so...'Snape trailed off, moving his gaze to a point a feet above Harry's head. 'I'll have a House Elf bring down some clothes for you,' he finished briskly before hurrying out of the room.

Harry looked around his surroundings with interest. The room was plainly furnished in the style of Hogwarts. The traditional four-poster lacked Gryffindor awnings though. Despite being in the dungeons Harry thought the room had a much less gloomy feel about it then the room he'd stayed in at Spinner's End. He made his way out into the corridor, searching for the bathroom. The door opposite was ajar but Harry could tell it was Snape's bedroom. He turned away without entering, trying the next door down the hall, which revealed the bathroom. He showered quickly, enjoying the refreshing feel of hot water on the back of his neck. As Snape had assured him, a clean uniform had already been laid out for him by a House Elf. Fiddling with his tie he left the bathroom to find Snape waiting in the sitting room, a silvery bundle in his lap.

'I asked the House Elf to fetch your cloak as well,' he explained as he handed over Harry's Invisibility Cloak. 'It would be best if you were not seen near my office.'

Harry nodded in understanding, wrapping the cloak around him so that only his head remained visible.

'Thanks sir,' Harry said graciously as Snape indicated he should precede him out. 'I'll see you tonight.'

Disappearing completely under the cloak, Harry made his way up to the Entrance Hall. The corridors were relatively empty but Harry made sure he was alone before pulling the cloak off. Entering the Great Hall he made his way to the Gryffindor table where Hermione was already seated, half hidden behind an Ancient Runes textbook.

'Oh hello Harry,' she greeted him. 'You're up early. How long did Umbridge keep you?'

'Err – quite late,' Harry admitted. 'Snape caught me out of bed though,' he added.

Hermione sent him a questioning glance but Harry shook his head slightly.

'I'll tell you about it later,' he promised.

This seemed to satisfy Hermione who understood their need for privacy in discussing matters pertaining to Snape. It wasn't long before a tousled haired Ron joined them, still on a high from the Quidditch win. His happiness was contagious and the trio enjoyed a hearty breakfast before leaving for Monday morning classes.

XXXX

Dinner that night was a subdued affair. Lessons for the fifth years had been devoted entirely to revision, resulting in short tempers and near nervous breakdowns as students stressed over the upcoming exams. Harry in particular was feeling particularly grim, after the disaster that had been his Potions lesson. It seemed to Harry that both Malfoy and Snape had spent the entire lesson attempting to sabotage his work. Snape had employed several choice insults which had had Harry very close to losing control. It had only been at the insistence of both Ron and Hermione that he had dutifully held his tongue.

'Harry, you have to relax,' Hermione was telling him as he picked at his food. 'Snape's insults are only getting to you because you're stressed.'

'She's right mate,' Ron chipped in quietly. 'I watched Snape the whole lesson, and I think you're right.'

'What do you mean?' Harry asked dully, toying with his pasta.

'He has changed,' Ron whispered. 'He wasn't really trying to insult you Harry. I mean coming from Snape, that comment about your potion was almost a compliment.'

'Maybe you're right,' Harry sighed. 'It's just...he was so different at home...I just can't get my head around it.'

'If it's worrying you that much Harry you should talk to him about it,' Hermione said wisely, giving him a quick hug.

'Maybe,' he said noncommittally, turning back to his food.

Regardless of what his friends were telling him, Harry was having a hard time distinguishing between the old Snape and the man he had come to know.

'I should go, I don't want to be late,' he announced suddenly, dropping his fork onto his half finished plate.

'Oh,' Hermione started in surprise but Harry was already gone, leaving a concerned Ron and Hermione behind him.

XXXX

Harry left the Great Hall, making his way slowly down to Snape's office. After the lesson he'd had he honestly wasn't sure of the reception he'd receive. He knocked on the door earning a stiff "Enter" in response. Warily he entered the office.

Snape looked up as Harry stepped into his office. He cast an eye over the boy, noting that he still seemed tired. He was also surprised to find Harry so grim and wary looking; almost as though he expected Snape to yell at him.

'Sir,' Harry offered stiffly in greeting.

'Harry,' Snape replied evenly, watching as Harry blinked in surprise at the use of his first name.

Standing, Snape flicked his wand lazily at his office door, locking it so that they would not be disturbed. Malfoy had a bad habit of barging into his office unannounced.

'We'll work in the sitting room,' Snape said in explanation as he gestured for Harry to go through to his private quarters.

Their experiences at Spinner's End had taught Snape that Harry found Occlumency less frustrating in a more relaxed environment. Ten minutes in though and Snape could tell something was truly bothering Harry. The boy was all over the place, his temper barely contained.

'Harry, sit down,' he instructed calmly.

'Why?' Harry answered sullenly, picking himself off the floor.

'Because something is obviously bothering you,' Snape replied candidly. 'And I will not continue this lesson until _we_ have gotten to the bottom of it.'

Harry seated himself ungraciously on the sofa, fiddling furiously with his wand as he stared fixedly at the ground. Snape simply seated himself in his armchair and waited patiently for Harry to speak. It took a few minutes, but Snape could see the tension was leaving Harry as the boy ordered his thoughts.

'I can't...it's just...I...'Harry muttered incoherently.

Harry looked up at him apologetically before exhaling loudly and beginning again.

'It's hard to know who I'm talking to,' he began slowly. 'The person you are now...or well...'

'The person I was before?' Snape asked shrewdly.

'Yeah,' Harry agreed, sounding relieved that Snape understood him.

'I see,' Snape said carefully.

'I mean, I know you call me Harry or Potter,' Harry continued. 'That helps...but...well I guess I'm just letting what you say get to me,' he finished lamely, running his hand through his hair nervously.

Snape considered the boy before him. He knew Harry was having a hard time. The problem was that Harry had learnt early to distrust adults. No matter how many assurances Snape gave Harry, he knew there would always be a part of the boy that wouldn't quite believe he was being honest. Snape needed to earn Harry's trust and to do that he needed to make a gesture.

'I understand how difficult this is for you Harry,' Snape began carefully, weighing his words. 'You once told me that we were no longer just student and teacher. And I agreed with you.'

He paused, watching as Harry's brow creased in confusion at the sudden turn in conversation.

'The time for 'sir' and 'Professor' is long gone,' Snape continued. 'Perhaps it would help you if you were to call me Severus?'

Harry remained silent, thoughtfully considering Snape's proposition. He had never considered calling Snape anything other than 'sir' or even 'Snape'. Still, now that Harry considered it both names seemed rather inadequate. It would help him though he realised. It would allow him to separate out the two Snape's: the one in the classroom, and the one from Spinner's End.

'At the least it may prevent any reoccurrences of Sunday evening,' Snape added.

'I'd like that,' Harry said finally. 'Thank you Severus,' he said seriously.

Snape simply inclined his head in response. Briefly he considered resuming the lesson but he could see Harry was exhausted.

'How has your study been going,' he inquired instead.

'Alright,' Harry said uncomfortably.

Severus watched as the boy fidgeted, clearly wanting to say something more.

'It's hard to find a quiet place to study,' Harry finally said reluctantly after a pause. 'The library is _always_ full, and the common room is too noisy. It's not like when we were at...' Harry caught himself suddenly, realising he'd been about to refer to Spinner's End as 'home'. As much as Spinner's End may have felt like a home to him, he knew he had no right to claim it as such. It was Severus' house and Harry doubted he'd ever set foot in it again – regardless of how much he might have wanted to.

Snape seemed to realise what Harry had been about to say, a peculiar look crossing his face.

'Well,' Severus began gruffly, after a long silence. 'I've got some marking I need to do, but you may study here until curfew. We can resume your Occlumency tomorrow if you wish.'

'That would be great,' Harry said earnestly after a moment of surprised silence. 'Thanks sir.'

XXXX

The next evening was much the same. Harry returned for his lesson but Snape found the boy far too distracted to teach. Compromising, Snape decided to simply teach Harry several more techniques for closing his mind before sleep. He knew it wasn't entirely what Dumbledore had wanted with the lessons, but Harry was useless at Occlumency whilst so distracted. Snape simply had to hope Harry would employ the techniques effectively.

XXXX

So it was that Harry spent the remainder of the week studying in Snape's rooms. The man himself seemed to have no objections, simply taking his own work into his office and leaving Harry to his study. Harry tried to work diligently on his Occlumency in return, attempting to close his mind before sleep using Snape's techniques, but he found he was far too distracted. Most nights he simply ended up frustratingly cursing Snape. Regardless of what the man was teaching him, he couldn't seem to stop thinking about his upcoming exams. In the end Harry would guilty fall asleep, aware that his mind was wide open.

XXXX

Before Harry knew it the OWLs had arrived. The first week passed quickly, and Harry did not see Snape once. With the arrival of the exams he had taken to revising constantly with both Ron and Hermione in the common room at night. Harry found the exams alright, but it wasn't until Defence Against the Dark Arts that he truly felt he had passed for sure. The look on Umbridge's face as he had cast his corporeal Patronus had been worth every minute of detention.

To Harry's surprise Snape appeared during their Potions OWL. He wasn't sure when the man had entered the Great Hall but he noticed him halfway through the practical. For the briefest of seconds Snape caught his gaze, giving him an encouraging nod before looking away disinterestedly. Snape's presence calmed him though and Harry found himself smiling as he diligently completed the potion. He was certain he hadn't failed as he left the Great Hall; he just hoped he'd done well enough to progress into the NEWT class.

XXXX

Finally the last exam had arrived. Harry entered the Great Hall tiredly on Thursday afternoon for his History of Magic OWL. The events of the previous evening had kept him up well into the morning and his head was swimming with disconnected facts.

'Turn over your papers,' said Professor Marchbanks, cutting into Harry's hazy thoughts. 'You may begin.'

Harry stared blankly down at his paper. The exam had been going for almost an hour now but Harry had the distinct impression that he'd completed very little of it so far. His thoughts were all over the place. He tried desperately to visualise the pages in Hermione's notes that were relevant to his current question.

Think, _he told himself, his face in his hands, while all around him quills scratched out never-ending answers and the sand trickled through the hour-glass at the front..._

_He was walking along the cool, dark corridor to the Department of Mysteries again, walking with a firm and purposeful tread, breaking occasionally into a run, determined to reach his destination at last ... the black door swung open for him as usual, and here he was in the circular room with its many doors ..._

_Straight across the stone floor and through the second door ... patches of dancing light on the walls and floor and that odd mechanical clicking, but no time to explore, he must hurry..._

_He jogged the last few feet to the third door, which swung open just like the others..._

_Once again he was in the cathedral-sized room full of shelves and glass spheres ... his heart was beating very fast now ... he was going to get there this time ... when he reached number ninety-seven he turned left and hurried along the aisle between two rows..._

_But there was a shape on the floor at the very end, a black shape moving on the floor like a wounded animal ... Harry's stomach contracted with fear ... with excitement..._

_A voice issued from his own mouth, a high, cold voice empty of any human kindness..._

'_Take it for me...lift it down, now...I cannot touch it...but you can...'_

_The black shape on the floor shifted a little. Harry saw a long-fingered white hand clutching a wand rise at the end of his own arm...heard the high, cold voice say '_Crucio_!'_

_The man on the floor let out a scream of pain, attempted to stand but fell back, writhing. Harry was laughing. He raised his wand, the curse lifted and the figure groaned and became motionless._

'_Lord Voldemort is waiting...'_

_Very slowly, his arms trembling, the man on the ground raised his shoulders a few inches and lifted his head. His face was bloodstained and gaunt, twisted in pain yet rigid with defiance..._

'_You'll have to kill me,' whispered Sirius._

'_Undoubtedly I shall in the end,' said the cold voice. 'But you will fetch it for me first, Black...you think you have felt pain thus far? Think again...we have hours ahead of us and nobody to hear you scream...'_

_But somebody screamed as Voldemort lowered his wand again; somebody yelled and fell sideways off a hot desk on to the cold stone floor; Harry awoke as he hit the ground, still yelling, his scar on fire, as the Great Hall erupted around him._

He'd remembered.

It was as though time had slowed down for him. He was falling out of his chair but the face was there. Imprinted on the back of his retina; seared into his mind. He would know that face anywhere.

Sirius Black – _his godfather_

He did not know – nor did he care – how he had come to forget it. All that mattered was he'd remembered now.

And with the name came a hundred memories. But Harry disregarded them all as another memory surfaced, in a moment of horrible realisation.

'_It occurred to me that I might have family in the Wizarding world that they didn't know about. Do you know if there is anyone sir?'_

_He looked over at Snape and saw that the man was regarding him with a closed expression._

'_You have no other relatives.'_

The words reverberated around Harry's head, as the implications of what he had remembered hit him.

Snape had lied to him.

XXXX

**A/N:** My sincere apologies for the delayed update! Uni has started back and to add to that some unforseen circumstances arose which needed attention. Updating will probably be a bit slower now, but I'm hoping to try and maintain a once a week or once a fortnight update schedule.

I was quite pleased that most of you seemed to be supportitive of my Severus/Petunia dialogue. As to this chapter I'd be most interested in thoughts. It was a bit of a filler but it had to be done to get to where we are now. I'm sorry if the stuff about OWLs seems rushed but honestly we've all read it before and essentially the OWL week is much the same.

On a more exciting note Harry has finally remembered Sirius. Stuff will be kicked into action now and I can assure you that the next chapter is going to be a lot more action packed than this chapter. Rest assured we won't just be trooping off to the Ministry of Magic with Harry.

On a final note, if you spot any glaring errors please let me know. I hurried the last bit of this chapter edit out tonight (it's past midnight now and I've got uni tomorrow morning) so it's quite possible that there are a few mistakes. I probably had more to say, but if you want to discuss the story or leave thoughts I will be attending to reviews in the next few days. Once again thanks for sticking with the story - we're quite close to the end now so I hope you will enjoy the final few chapters as everything comes together. Until next time :D


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18 _13th - 14th June, 1996_

The moment Professor Tofty disappeared back into the Great Hall, Harry dropped to his knees, breathing heavily. Alone in the Entrance Hall, he leant against the cool wall of the castle shutting his eyes in an attempt to control the torrent of memories rushing through his mind. The vision of Sirius being tortured had unlocked the remainder of his memories. The release was uncontrolled though and Harry was having difficulty ordering and focusing the memories. Pressing his fists against his eyes he consciously slowed his breathing, fighting to keep his thoughts on track.

_The only thing that mattered at present was Sirius._

He repeated the thought like a mantra, forcing himself to focus solely on Sirius. Whatever Snape had done, Harry knew he needed to forget it for the moment. With a titanic effort he forced himself to push aside the anger and betrayal he felt towards Snape; locking it away until he faced the man. A single-minded calmness over came him and he was finally able to stand. He needed to speak to an Order member he realised. Without further thought he hurtled headlong towards the staircase. It was McGonagall he needed to see now. She'd be able to help him he thought desperately as he took the steps three at a time.

Reaching the Hospital Wing he stormed through the doors, narrowly avoiding crashing into Madam Pomfrey. Instead he collided with the floating tray she had been using to hold her patient's potions. With the reflexes of a seeker he managed to snatch the potion bottle which had flown off before it hit the ground.

'Potter, what do you think you are doing?' shrieked Madam Pomfrey. 'This is a place of healing; you cannot simply come barging in here!'

'I need to see Professor McGonagall,' Harry said, completely ignoring Madam Pomfrey's protests. 'Immediately...please it's urgent!'

Madam Pomfrey did not reply immediately and Harry was disconcerted to note she suddenly seemed sad.

'I'm sorry Harry,' she began apologetically. 'She's not here. She was transferred to St Mungo's early this morning...'

The bell echoed through the corridors, drowning out Madam Pomfrey's explanation, but Harry had already stopped listening. _McGonagall was gone_. Harry felt as though someone had struck him in the gut. There was no one left.

'Harry, are you alright?' Madam Pomfrey cut into his thoughts.

Startled he looked up to find the witch looking at him concernedly.

'I'm fine...' he said distractedly, already moving towards the door.

'Harry...' she called out but the door had already swung shut behind him.

Racing down the stairs Harry knew who he needed now. His heart leapt when he saw them, Ron and Hermione. Both of them were waiting anxiously in the Entrance Hall for him. He ignored their questions, leading them straight into an unused classroom.

'Voldemort has Sirius,' he said bluntly as soon as the door was closed.

His statement was met by stunned silence for a moment before both Ron and Hermione fired questions at him.

'_What?_'

'How do you know?'

'I saw it,' he explained shortly as he paced before them. 'Just now. During the exam.'

Ron and Hermione shared a look and Harry knew they were unsure. Sighing exasperatedly he explained the vision to them as succinctly as he could. Finishing, he seated himself abruptly before addressing his two worried friends.

'How are we going to get there?' he asked determinedly.

Silence fell as both Ron and Hermione looked at him confusedly, until Hermione spoke up.

'But Harry...' she began timidly. 'Why haven't you told Professor Snape?'

Harry sent her a furious look, and Hermione seemed to realise she'd said the wrong thing. Standing he began to pace before them.

'I'm not telling Snape anything,' Harry said vehemently. 'He lied to me about Sirius. I can't trust him...he's not who I thought he was,' he trailed off.

Ron and Hermione shared a look, before Ron spoke up.

'Harry,' he began unsurely. 'Are you sure? We can't just go off to London...'

'Look, this doesn't matter' Harry said angrily. 'The only thing that matters is getting to Sirius before Voldemort...' Harry broke off, not wanting to voice his fears. Running his hand through his hair agitatedly he stopped pacing, standing directly before Ron. 'You were right Ron, you knew he couldn't change.'

'But Harry...' Hermione pleaded.

'Hermione,' Harry said exasperatedly, turning to face her instead. 'You _know_ he doesn't care about Sirius. He hates Sirius. Please,' he added desperately. 'Sirius needs _our_ help.'

Hermione stared at him, nervously biting her lip but finally she gave him the smallest of nods. A wave of relief washed over Harry and his attention immediately returned to the problem of getting to London. He took a step back, resuming his pacing in front of the pair.

'We need to find a way to get to the Ministry,' he said once again.

'Harry, please' Hermione cut in suddenly. 'Listen to me for just a minute...please I'm begging you...'

'Hermione,' he growled in frustration but he stopped his pacing once again, allowing her to talk.

'How can Sirius be there? It's five o-clock in the afternoon...the Ministry would be full of workers. Harry they're the two most wanted people in the Wizarding World,' she raised her voice slightly as Harry started to interrupt again. 'How did they get into a building full of Aurors, undetected?'

'_I dunno, Voldemort used an Invisibility Cloak or something!' Harry shouted. 'Anyway the Department of Mysteries has always been completely empty whenever I've been – '_

'_You've never been there, Harry,' said Hermione quietly. 'You've dreamed about the place, that's all.'_

'_They're not normal dreams!' Harry shouted in her face, standing up and taking a step closer to her in turn. 'How d'you explain Ron's dad then, what was all that about, how come I knew what had happened to him?'_

Ron gave him an odd look, before stepping in front of Hermione slightly.

'You're right Harry,' he said calmly. 'But you need to calm down. We both want to help you but you need to listen to Hermione. She knows what she's talking about,' he finished determinedly.

Harry pulled up short at Ron's words, ashamed at his own behaviour. He'd let his anger escape and nearly taken his fears out on Hermione. Taking a step back he seated himself in the nearest chair before looking up at Hermione. Ron was still standing protectively in front of her and Harry realised with a start that the two had become much closer whilst he had been gone.

'I'm sorry,' he said sincerely.

Hermione gave him a small smile whilst Ron gave him a stiff nod, before nudging Hermione to continue.

'I know they're not normal dreams Harry,' she began carefully. 'It's just it seems so _unlikely_. Why would Voldemort want _Sirius_ of all people to get the weapon for him...or whatever it is,' she trailed off.

Harry felt his frustration return, it didn't matter why Voldemort had chosen Sirius. All that mattered was that he had Sirius. Still he held his tongue, not wishing to lash out at Hermione again.

'Sirius' brother was a Death Eater,' Ron said suddenly. 'Maybe he told Sirius the secret?'

'Yeah,' Harry agreed, seizing on the idea. 'Maybe that's why Dumbledore's had Sirius locked up all year!'

'Harry,' Hermione cut in, 'that makes no sense. If Sirius knew, he'd have told Dumbledore and Dumbledore would have dealt with it. What we need is proof that Sirius is there.'

Ron spoke up quickly before Harry's temper got the better of him.

'Harry saw them,' he said resolutely, as though that closed the matter.

'Well, okay...'Hermione began unsurely, looking frightened but determined, 'I've just got to say this...'

Not trusting himself to speak Harry simply nodded stiffly for her to continue.

'_You...this isn't a criticism, Harry! But you do...sort of...I mean – don't you think you've got a bit of a – a – _saving-people thing?' _she said._

_He glared at her._

'_And what's that supposed to mean, a "saving-people thing"?'_

_Well...you...' she looked more apprehensive than ever. 'I mean...last year, for instance...in the lake...during the Tournament...you shouldn't have...I mean, you didn't need to save that little Delacour girl...you got a bit ...carried away...'_

_A wave of hot, prickly anger swept through Harry's body; how could she reminding him of that blunder now?_

'_I mean, it was really great of you and everything,' said Hermione quickly, looking positively petrified at the look on Harry's face, 'everyone thought it was a wonderful thing to do –'_

'_That's funny,' said Harry though gritted teeth, 'because I definitely remember Ron saying I'd wasted time _acting the hero..._is that what you think this is? You reckon I want to act the hero again?'_

'_No, no, no!' said Hermione, looking aghast. 'That's not what I mean at all!'_

'_Well, spit out what you've got to say, because we're wasting time here!' Harry shouted, finally losing his cool._

'_I'm trying to say – Voldemort knows you, Harry! He took Ginny down into the Chamber of Secrets to lure you there, its' the kind of thing he does, he knows you're the – the sort of person who'd go to Sirius's aid! What if he's just trying to get _you_ into the Department of Myst –?'_

'Hermione, it doesn't matter if he's done it to get me there or not – we're the only people who can do anything about it. _If we don't go, Sirius is dead!'_

'_But Harry – what if your dream was – was just that, a dream?'_

Harry let out a roar of frustration, standing up to face Hermione. Ron moved between them again, trying to placate Harry, as Hermione took a step back in shock.

'You don't get it,' Harry shouted in frustration. 'Neither of you do! These aren't normal dreams. It's not just a nightmare. Why do you think I was supposed to learn Occlumency? Dumbledore didn't want me seeing these things, because they're REAL. _Hermione – Sirius is trapped, I've seen him. Voldemort's got him, and no one else knows, and that means we're the only ones who can save him, and if you don't want to do it, fine, but I'm going, understand? And if I remember rightly, you didn't have a problem with my _saving-people thing _when it was you I was saving from the Dementors, or –' he rounded on Ron ' – when it was your sister I was saving from the Basilisk –'_

'_We never said we had a problem!' said Ron heatedly._

'_But Harry, you've just said it,' said Hermione fiercely, 'Dumbledore wanted you to learn to shut these things out of your mind, if you'd done Occlumency properly you'd never have seen this –'_

'_IF YOU THINK I'M JUST GOING TO ACT LIKE I HAVEN'T SEEN –'_

'_Sirius told you there was nothing more important than you learning to close your mind!'_

'_WELL, I EXPECT HE'D SAY SOMETHING DIFFERENT IF HE KNEW WHAT I'D JUST –' _

_The classroom door opened. Harry, Ron and Hermione whipped around. Ginny walked in, looking curious, closely followed by Luna, who as usual looked as though she had drifted in accidentally._

'_Hi,' said Ginny uncertainly. 'We recognised Harry's voice. What are you yelling about?'_

'_Never you mind,' said Harry roughly._

_Ginny raised her eyebrows._

'_There's no need to take that tone with me,' she said coolly, 'I was only wondering whether I could help.'_

'_Well, you can't,' said Harry shortly._

'_You're being rather rude, you know,' said Luna serenely._

_Harry swore and turned away. The very last thing he wanted now was a conversation with Luna Lovegood._

'_Wait,' said Hermione suddenly. 'Wait...Harry, they _can _help.'_

_Harry and Ron looked at her._

'_Listen,' she said urgently, 'Harry we need to establish whether Sirius really has left Headquarters.'_

'_I've told you, I saw –'_

'_Harry, I'm begging you, please!' said Hermione desperately. 'Please let's just check that Sirius isn't at home before we go charging off to London. If we find out he's not there, then I swear I won't try to stop you. I'll come; I'll d-do whatever it takes to try and save him.'_

'_Sirius is being tortured NOW!' shouted Harry. 'We haven't got time to waste.'_

'_But if this is a trick of Voldemort's, Harry, we've got to check, we've got to.'_

'_How?' Harry demanded. 'How're we going to check?'_

Twenty minutes later Harry and Hermione stood hidden beneath his Invisibility Cloak in the corridor outside Umbridge's office. Impatiently he waited for the corridor to clear as both Ginny and Luna spread the news of Garrotting Gas. As soon as the last stragglers had left the corridor Harry shot forward, pulling out Sirius' knife. With a satisfying click the lock yielded, granting access to Umbridge's fireplace.

XXXX

Snape was restless. His head was pounding. It had started almost half an hour ago, with a sharp spike of pain – intense enough to cause an involuntary gasp. The pain had eased as suddenly as it had come, but had been replaced instead with the dull pounding he now felt. He'd already taken a Headache potion, but it seemed to have had no effect whatsoever. He massaged his temples tiredly; the pain was becoming a distraction.

He tried cataloguing his day, attempting to find the trigger for the pain. Oddly, it reminded him somewhat of a feeling he'd gotten occasionally whilst probing the bond he and Harry shared through Occlumency. Snape had never let on, but the bond he shared with Harry was a two-way bond. For Harry the bond acted as protection, acting as a trigger to recall his memories. As he had explained to Poppy the bond was primarily a protection for Harry, to prevent Snape, as his teacher, from violating the unprotected mind of the student. What he hadn't told her was that the bond triggered a response in the teacher as well. If the student was feeling threatened, the bond would ensure the teacher was given a 'warning' of likes. It had happened a few times at Spinner's End. Occasionally he'd come across a memory that Harry had subconsciously wanted to hide from him. In such cases the bond had activated, warning Snape away. Normally the pain lasted less than a second but it was enough for Snape to know he needed to tread carefully.

Now however, he wondered what it was that had triggered the reaction. He was interrupted though as his office door burst open to admit Draco Malfoy.

'Sir,' the boy gasped excitedly. 'Professor Umbridge wants you immediately. She's caught Potter!'

A sickening feeling of dread suffused through Snape, freezing him in place for a moment before he remembered just who was in the room with him. Steeling himself he addressed Malfoy.

'Perhaps next time you might take the time to knock Mr Malfoy,' he said in a bored tone, raising his eyebrow at the abashed teen. Standing and moving out from behind his desk he gestured for Malfoy to precede him out of his office.

'What has Potter done this time?' he sneered as the two made their way up to the Entrance Hall.

Malfoy laughed loudly at Snape's statement.

'Why, the Headmistress caught him in her office with that Mudblood that's always trailing around after him,' Draco drawled.

Snape's pace faltered slightly at the offensive term but he recovered quickly. Malfoy's explanation troubled him though. What in Merlin's name was Harry up to, he wondered. Snape remained silent for the rest of the walk, considering his options.

The second floor corridor was empty, the silence broken only by the sound of their footsteps. Snape followed directly behind as Malfoy eagerly entered Umbridge's office without knocking. Entering the office, Snape took in the scene before him, careful to appear decidedly disinterested.

His resolve was tested though as the bizarre nature of the scene was revealed to him. Several of his Slytherin students stood to the side of Umbridge's desk, each guarding a gagged struggling Gryffindor. Surprisingly the Lovegood girl was also in the room, although she stood complacently next to her captor. Snape wondered briefly if she had wandered into the room by mistake. He noted with alarm that Longbottom was in danger of being suffocated by Crabbe and realised he'd have to step in somehow. Disconcertingly Harry stood before Umbridge, his back to the door. The boy made no move to look at him though, and Snape almost frowned in confusion. Something was very wrong with Harry, he was sure of it. Umbridge herself was seated behind her desk looking at Snape expectantly.

'You wanted to see me, Headmistress?' Snape said without missing a beat as he moved into the room, standing beside Harry.

'Ah, Professor Snape,' said Umbridge, smiling widelyas she stood up. 'Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quick as you can, please.'

Umbridge's request unnerved him slightly and he began to wonder just what it was he'd walked into. He risked a glance at Harry, but the boy was staring resolutely at Umbridge, ignoring him completely.

'_You took my last bottle to interrogate Potter,' he said easily. 'Surely you did not use it all? I told you that three drops would be sufficient.'_

_Umbridge flushed, much to Snape's satisfaction._

'_You can make some more, can't you?' she said, her voice becoming more sweetly girlish as it always did when she was furious._

'_Certainly,' said Snape, his lip curling unconsciously at the sheer stupidity of the woman. 'It takes a full moon-cycle to mature, so I should have it ready for you in around a month.'_

'_A month?' squawked Umbridge, swelling toadishly. 'A _month? _But I need it this evening, Snape! I have just found Potter using my fire to communicate with a person or persons unknown!'_

'Really?' said Snape, his mask slipping slightly as his interest became obvious.

Once more he looked at Harry but the boy ignored him steadfastly. What the devil is going on Harry, Snape thought angrily at the boy's persistent aloofness.

'Well, it doesn't surprise me,' he continued coldly, attempting to goad Harry into facing him. 'Potter has never shown much inclination to follow school rules.'

Snape watched as Harry's fists clenched but the boy remained silent.

'_I wish to interrogate him!' repeated Umbridge, angrily, and Snape looked away from Harry back into her furiously quivering face. 'I wish you to provide me with a potion that will force him to tell me the truth!'_

'_I have already told you,' said Snape smoothly, 'that I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter – and I assure you I would have the greatest sympathy with you if you did – I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act too fast to give the victim much time for truth-telling.'_

Snape looked over at Harry once more. He could tell from the boy's posture that he was furious but still he refused to look at Snape. Snape's own temper was beginning to rise at Harry's stupidity. He could hardly help the fool if he didn't know what was going on, he thought angrily to himself.

'You are on probation!' shrieked Umbridge, cutting into his thoughts.

Feeling slightly insulted Snape stared coldly back at her, raising his eyebrows at the woman – daring her to continue.

'_You are being deliberately unhelpful! I expected better, Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of you! Now get out of my office!'_

'As you wish Headmistress,' Snape said calmly, giving her an ironic bow as he turned to leave.

He stopped with his hand on the door. Throwing caution to the wind he turned back.

'Don't forget Potter,' he sneered. 'You have detention with me this evening.'

His statement seemed to catch Harry by surprise and the boy turned reflexively. For the briefest of moments he met Harry's gaze. Snape frowned openly in confusion. Harry's gaze held nothing but utter loathing, betrayal and anger. All of it directed at him. Before Snape could probe deeper, the boy had turned away.

Snape remained standing where he was, trying to understand. Umbridge's cough returned him to reality and he scowled darkly at the woman, allowing his hurt and anger to colour his mood.

'Crabbe, loosen your hold,' he snapped angrily.

Without waiting to see if his instructions were followed, he stepped through Umbridge's door, shutting it with a sharp snap behind him. Scowling he left immediately for his own rooms.

XXXX

Harry paced furiously along the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Every few seconds his eyes would flick towards the beech tree, just visible near the edge of the lake. He'd noticed it as Umbridge had forced them at wand point into the Forbidden Forest under the false belief that a 'secret weapon' was kept within. The sight of the tree had brought a specific memory to the forefront of his mind, and it was that which he now dwelt upon. Hermione had watched with concern as his footsteps had faltered at the sight of the tree.

Harry's scar prickled uncomfortably, reminding him of just what was at stake. He scowled to himself, watched anxiously by Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville and Luna. The other four had joined Harry and Hermione in the forest not long ago, after overpowering Malfoy and his cronies in Umbridge's office. Harry's eyes flickered once again to the beech tree before returning to the group of Thestrals that surrounded him. It had been Luna's brilliant suggestion that they take the Thestrals, something Harry was sure he would never have thought of. As he watched Ron vainly attempting to see his Thestral, he realised it would take time for the others to mount up. And that was all he needed; a few moments to confront Snape. As long as he kept his temper in check it would be fine.

'I need to talk to him,' he said earnestly, looking directly at Hermione.

She seemed to understand him in an instant.

'We'll be ready,' she said quickly, and Harry knew they would be.

'It won't take a minute,' he called over his shoulder as he sprinted off towards the castle.

He had two questions for Snape and he needed the answers. He had to know why.

XXXX

Snape glanced at the mantel piece clock. It had been almost an hour since he had seen Harry in Umbridge's office and he was becoming impatient. If the boy didn't appear soon he'd really give him a detention, he thought irritably to himself. A pounding knock on his office door disturbed his thoughts. He stepped into his office, leaving the door to his sitting room ajar. The only person he was expecting this evening was Harry. Opening the door he found himself face to face with a scratched, muddy and slightly out of breath Harry Potter.

Snape hid his surprise at Harry's appearance watching as the boy stepped rigidly into his office. Closing the door quietly, Snape gestured for Harry to enter his sitting room. Harry did so, although Snape was unnerved to find him reluctant to do so. Snape followed him through, immediately seating himself in his armchair. Harry made no move to sit down though, causing Snape to frown openly in confusion. Instead the teen stared at him, his gaze hard.

'Harry...' he began unsurely but the boy cut him off.

'Why didn't you tell me about Sirius?'

Snape felt the blood leave his face. Harry's tone had been as cold as the piercing gaze which was now fixed upon him. Still, Harry's words explained the behaviour in Umbridge's office. Even so, Snape had not expected him to take it so badly. With great effort Snape hid himself beneath a blank mask before addressing Harry.

'It was not necessary for you to know,' he answered truthfully. 'I had no desire to deal with your _godfather_,' he spat out the word with distaste, 'whilst you were in _my_ house.'

The boy was pacing before him now and Snape could tell he was close to losing control. He watched as Harry repeatedly opened and closed his fists, a gesture of his frustration.

'I _asked_ you whether I had any family,' Harry said accusingly, his tone still cold. 'You lied to me.'

It was almost a threat, Snape realised. Harry wasn't telling him something, he was sure of it. The boy had never been so distracted but at the same time so single-minded in his actions. Not wishing for the situation to escalate Snape tried to placate the teen.

'I did not lie to you Harry,' Snape answered calmly.

His words seemed to push Harry over the edge though, stopping him mid pace. Facing Snape Harry let out a cold mirthless laugh. The sound set Snape on edge for the first time that evening. Whatever was going on, Harry was not to be trifled with.

'No,' Harry continued, as though he found the whole situation ironic. 'You justdidn't tell me the whole truth did you? How very _Slytherin_.'

The last word was spat out scathingly as Harry's expression lost all trace of mirth. In that instant Snape saw the hurt within the boy's eyes as the cold mask slipped.

'He's the only family I have,' Harry said fiercely, 'and you knew that when you answered my question. But you can't stand my family can you?' Harry demanded. 'Dad, Sirius...even my mother. You disliked every one of them. The worst of it is that I believed _you_ when you said you were friends with her.'

'What are you talking about?' Snape asked in confusion.

'What do you think?' Harry asked scathingly. 'You called her a Mudblood. Why?' he demanded.

The blood left Snape's face and his expression became oddly blank as he recalled that day.

'You said you were her friend, yet you called her that,' Harry continued, oblivious to Snape. 'I should have realised my mother would never have been friends with the likes of you. Sirius was right about you –'

'ENOUGH,' Snape cut in coldly.

Whatever game Harry was playing, he would not hear another word spoken against him in his own rooms. The boy had gone too far.

'If I remember correctly,' he said dangerously 'you broke into _my_ Pensieve to view it.'

'I DON'T CARE HOW I FOUND OUT,' the boy yelled, breathing heavily. 'I KNOW THE TRUTH NOW!'

'YOU KNOW NOTHING POTTER,' Snape spat out bitterly, his own face white with rage at the impudent boy before him.

Snape's words caught Harry by surprise. For a moment he let them get to him until he remembered why he'd come. He'd wanted an explanation but it seemed Snape had nothing to offer him. Catching sight of the clock Harry realised he'd wasted enough time with Snape. Steeling himself he faced the man once more.

'Only Death Eaters use that word,' he said shortly, turning for the door.

His hand was on the door handle when Snape grasped him by the shoulder to stop him leaving. Harry reacted instinctively pushing backwards to throw Snape off him.

'GET OFF ME!' he cried out angrily.

He turned back to find Snape studying him guardedly, although Harry could tell he was surprised at Harry's reaction.

'You have detention with me this evening Potter,' he sneered.

Harry turned away furiously, once again reaching for the door handle. He tried to turn it but it would not move.

'Let me out Snape,' he shouted, panic beginning to set in.

He could not let Snape keep him here. Not when Sirius' life depended on him.

'No,' Snape said simply, reseating himself in his armchair. 'Not until we have talked.'

Snape's calm manner pushed Harry over the edge.

'NO,' he shouted. 'I need to save Sirius!'

His scar twinged painfully once again, and unconsciously he let out a gasp as he pressed his hand against the scar.

'What?' Snape asked his tone suddenly deadly serious, his eyes flickering towards Harry's scar.

'Don't pretend you don't know,' Harry said accusingly, the pain from his scar becoming distracting. 'Your _master_,' Snape flinched at the scathing tone, 'has him in the Department of Mysteries!'

Snape frowned at that, but Harry paid him no attention once more trying the door behind him. Harry turned back to find Snape approaching him.

'Get away from me,' he shouted, suddenly sure that Snape was going to stop him.

Unconsciously he withdrew his wand. Snape loomed over him and without further thought Harry cast the first spell that came to mind.

'_Stupefy!_' he cried.

Snape had no time to react; the spell hit him straight in the chest. The man was blasted off his feet, to collide sickeningly with the far wall. He slid to the ground landing in an undignified heap, his head lolling forward onto his chest. Harry dropped his wand in shock. He'd meant only to stop the man from reaching him. He darted forward. Snape was out cold, a small trickle of blood oozing from his left temple. Sure he was in no danger Harry turned back to the door. Picking up his wand he cast a quick '_Alohomora'_. The door yielded before him and Harry stepped through. He paused only to cast one final glance at Snape before shutting the door and sprinting off.

XXXX

Reaching the edge of the Forbidden Forest he found the others gathered anxiously, all mounted on Thestrals.

'Harry what took you so long?' Hermione demanded nervously.

'I got held up,' he answered grimly, jumping onto his own Thestral. 'Let's go,' he called out.

Looking down at his Thestral he swallowed nervously.

'_Ministry of Magic, visitors' entrance, London, then,' he said uncertainly. 'Err...if you know...where to go...'_

_For a moment Harry's Thestral did nothing at all; then, with a sweeping movement that nearly unseated him, the wings on either side extended; the horse crouched slowly, then rocketed upwards so fast and so steeply that Harry had to clench his arms and legs tightly around the horse to avoid sliding backwards over its bony rump. He closed his eyes and pressed his face down into the horse's silky mane as they burst through the topmost branches of the trees and soared out into a blood-red sunset._ All thoughts of Snape left him as they climbed higher and higher, finally on their way to London.

XXXX

Snape returned to consciousness slowly, the room hazily coming into view as he opened his eyes. He was slumped against his sitting room wall he realised. His head hurt terribly, and he raised a hand to find it sticky with dried blood. He closed his eyes as the events of the evening came back to him.

Harry had accused him of something he remembered slowly. _Your master has him in the Department of Mysteries,_ the boy had shouted. That was when he'd realised what had happened. It was as he and Dumbledore had feared. The Dark Lord had once again infiltrated the boy's mind. Snape had stood then, intending to calm the boy down but Harry had drawn his wand instead. The boy had caught him off guard and Snape realised he'd been knocked out.

Snape scowled to himself as he stood slowly, leaning heavily against the wall. His eyes flickered uneasily to the mantel piece clock. He'd been unconscious for almost four hours he realised with a start.

'Merlin help you Harry if you've gone off to London,' he grumbled as he hastily left his rooms.

He needed to know immediately whether the boy was still on the school grounds. Distractedly he summoned a House Elf as he hurriedly made his way to the Entrance Hall.

'Is Harry Potter on school grounds?' he asked curtly.

The Elf disappeared with a 'pop', hurrying to complete his order. The Elf reappeared just as Snape entered the Entrance Hall.

'No sir,' the Elf said with great trepidation.

Snape did not miss a beat; he had been expecting that answer.

'When was he last seen?' he asked instead, moving towards the castle doors.

'Miffy says she saw Master Harry Potter leading Headmistress Umbridge into the Forbidden Forest with Mistress Granger.'

Snape stopped in surprise at that, causing the House Elf to squeak in alarm.

'Go on,' he said quickly.

'Yes Master Snape. Miffy says Master Harry Potter returned to the castle alone before going back into the Forest. Miffy says Master Harry Potter and his friends left.'

'Who did he take with him,' Snape said sharply.

'Master Weasley, Mistress Weasley, Mistress Granger, Master Longbottom and Mistress Lovegood,' the Elf listed quickly.

'Thank you,' Snape said distractedly.

The relieved House Elf disappeared with a pop and Snape stepped out into the grounds. The House Elf's report was troubling. Six students had disappeared off to London, undoubtedly straight into a trap set by the Dark Lord. Snape scowled to himself, he was supposed to know what the Dark Lord was doing. It seemed he had failed dismally at that. All that mattered now though was alerting the Order. He just had to hope he wasn't too late already. Increasing his pace he reached the school boundary and disapparated immediately for Grimmauld Place.

Appearing on the dilapidated doorstep he pounded loudly on the door, not caring that he would wake the portrait within. The door opened almost immediately to reveal the werewolf.

'Severus,' Lupin said in surprise, stepping aside to allow Snape to pass.

Snape said nothing, instead moving quickly into the corridor. Pointing his wand at the dreadful portrait before him, he silenced Black's mother.

'Everyone's in the kitchen,' Lupin said from behind him, as he shut the front door.

Snape nodded curtly, moving to the kitchen immediately.

'Who is it Moony?' Black called cheerfully from the kitchen before he saw it was Snape.

Sirius' cheerful grin slipped from his face as he recognised Snape. Pushing his chair back suddenly, he stood to meet Snape.

'What are _you_ doing here?' Sirius demanded.

'Checking on you,' Snape sneered, looking around to see Moody, Kingsley and Tonks clustered around the table.

'What?' Sirius asked in surprise.

'Your godson is under the impression that you've somehow been captured by the Dark Lord.'

'Harry?' Lupin queried calmly from behind Snape.

The name brought Snape back to his sense and he realised he was wasting precious time goading Black.

'Stop messing around Snape and tell us what's happened,' Mad-Eye demanded sharply from the corner.

The retired Auror had obviously realised something had happened if Snape had left the school to inform them.

'Earlier this evening Potter left for the Department of Mysteries, under the impression that Black was being tortured by the Dark Lord. Unwittingly he has fallen into a trap.'

'What!' exclaimed several people, Sirius loudest of all.

'You mean to tell me you let Harry go?' Black demanded, stepping forward menacingly.

'I did nothing of the sort Black,' Snape answered coldly.

Lupin rested a hand on Black's shoulder in warning before addressing Snape.

'How long has Harry been gone?' he asked calmly.

'Several hours,' Snape admitted.

'You're only telling us now!' Sirius yelled.

It was only Lupin's strong grip which kept Sirius from leaping at Snape. Snape scowled darkly at the man before him.

'Why _have_ you only come now?' Tonks spoke up from beside Lupin.

'Unfortunately I was delayed by Potter,' he said tersely.

Black seemed to find the idea amusing, his eyes flicking to the dried blood caking Snape's temple.

'Right,' Moody said gruffly from the corner. 'Potter's likely in London already. Someone needs to alert Dumbledore whilst the rest of us go and get him. How many of your friends should we expect Snape?'

Snape scowled at Moody's implication but answered him nevertheless.

'Lucius Malfoy will likely be in charge. I cannot say how many he will take with him though,' he admitted.

Sirius let out a derisive snort but Snape ignored him.

'Potter has taken the two Weasleys, Granger, Longbottom and the Lovegood girl with him. I suggest you leave Black behind to inform Dumbledore. I must return to Hogwarts,' he finished grimly.

'Just one moment Snivellus,' Sirius called out. 'Why can't _you _wait for Dumbledore, I'm not going to sit around here while Harry's in danger. I'm going to the Ministry.'

Snape's lip curled at Black's use of Snivellus.

'I'm returning to search the Forest, Black,' Snape growled out. 'It's possible Potter is still there, although I doubt it.'

In reality Snape needed an alibi for the entire fiasco. Assuming the Order members reached the Ministry in time, it would be Snape the Death Eaters would blame.

'Perhaps Severus is right Sirius,' Lupin said calmly from beside Black. 'Someone needs to let Dumbledore know and it would be unwise for you to go to the Ministry.'

Black scowled darkly, but he raised no further protests. Snape turned to leave, the Order members already clustering around Mad-Eye, forming a plan. Sirius stood apart scowling darkly at him. Snape simply sneered in return, passing Black's House Elf as he left the kitchen.

Disapparating, Snape reappeared at the Hogwarts gates. He was sure the Order members would waste no time in going to Harry's aid. The thought didn't stop him from feeling worried for the boy though. For once Snape felt utterly useless. He turned toward the Forest to begin his meaningless search. As he stepped beneath the dark canopy his only hope was that Harry would forgive him for what he had done.

XXXX

Harry stood frozen upon the dais, Neville's sobs echoing around the vaulted room. There was no choice. He'd been a fool to come here. Lucius Malfoy's leering face loomed before him. _The prophecy was hot with the heat of his clutching hand as he held it out. Malfoy jumped forwards to take it._

_Then, high above them, two more doors burst open and five more people sprinted into the room: Sirius, Lupin, Moody, Tonks and Kingsley._ Harry's heart soared at the sight of his godfather. He desperately wanted to talk to Sirius. To explain what had happened.

_Malfoy turned, and raised his wand, but Tonks had already sent a Stunning Spell right at him. Harry did not wait to see whether it had made contact, but dived off the dais out of the way. The Death Eaters were completely distracted by the appearance of the members of the Order, who were now raining spells down upon them as they jumped from step to step towards the sunken floor._

The fighting was fast and furious as Harry struggled to help Neville. Together the pair did their best to defend the prophecy and themselves. Dolohov appeared out of nowhere cursing Neville with '_Tarantallegra!'_

'_Now, Potter –'_

_He made the same slashing movement with his wand that he had used on Hermione just as Harry yelled, '_Protego!'

_Harry felt something streak across his face like a blunt knife; the force of it knocked him sideways and he fell over Neville's jerking legs, but the Shield Charm had stopped the worst of the spell._

_Dolohov raised his wand again. '_Accio proph – '

_Sirius had hurtled out of nowhere, rammed Dolohov with his shoulder and sent him flying out of the way. The prophecy had again flown to the tips of Harry's fingers but he had managed to cling on to it. Now Sirius and Dolohov were duelling, their wands flashing like swords, sparks flying from their wand-tips – _

_Dolohov drew back his wand to make the same slashing movement he had used on Harry and Hermione. Springing up, Harry yelled, '_Petrificus Totalus!'_ Once again, Dolohov's arms and legs snapped together and he keeled over backwards, landing with a crash on his back._

'_Nice one!' shouted Sirius, forcing Harry's head down as a pair of Stunning Spells flew towards them. 'Now I want you to get out of –'_

_They both ducked again; a jet of green light had narrowly missed Sirius. Across the room Harry saw Tonks fall from halfway up the stone steps, her limp form toppling from stone seat to stone seat and Bellatrix, triumphant, running back towards the fray._

'Harry, take the prophecy, grab Neville and run!' Sirius yelled about to dash off to meet Bellatrix but Harry stopped him.

'Sirius, wait,' he called out.

His godfather turned towards him a crooked smile on his face.

'I'm sorry,' Harry said earnestly. 'I didn't realise...I forgot...I lost my...' he knew he was rambling but Sirius said nothing.

Instead his godfather knelt beside him pulling him into a rough one-armed hug.

'It's fine Harry,' he said gently, ruffling Harry's hair.

'But how did you know we were here?' Harry asked.

'Snape turned up at Headquarters looking a little the worse for wear,' Sirius said smugly. 'Still I'll have to thank the git once we get out of this mess,' he added. 'Don't worry Harry, James and I would've done the same. Now take Neville, round up the others and get out of here.'

He held Harry to him for a second longer before standing up and rushing off to meet Bellatrix. Scrambling towards Neville, Harry reached out a hand to help the boy up.

Suddenly there was a wand tip pressed hard between his ribs.

'_The prophecy, give me the prophecy, Potter!' snarled Lucius Malfoy's voice in his ear._

'_No – get – off – me ... Neville – catch it!'_

_Harry flung the prophecy across the floor; Neville spun himself around on his back and scooped the ball to his chest. Malfoy pointed the wand instead at Neville, but Harry jabbed his own wand back over his shoulder and yelled, '_Impedimenta!'

_Malfoy was blasted off his back. As Harry scrambled up again he looked around and saw Malfoy smash into the dais on which Sirius and Bellatrix were now duelling. Malfoy aimed his wand at Harry and Neville again, but before he could draw breath to strike, Lupin had jumped between them._

'_Harry, round up the others and GO!'_

Finally Harry reached Neville, grasping him by the shoulder he pulled him bodily on to the first tier of stone steps. Neville's legs were thrashing around wildly and Harry realised he'd need to cast the counter curse. Before he could though, a wayward spell hit the stone step beneath Harry's heel. The step crumbled beneath him and he fell backwards. Neville overbalanced and before Harry could catch him, he'd fallen. Neville's hand, clutching the prophecy, reflexively moved to break his fall. Harry watched appalled, as the small orb within was smashed as Neville landed. Both boys watched with horror as a pearly-white figure with hugely magnified eyes rose into the air, unnoticed by any but them. _Harry could see its mouth moving, but in all the crashes and screams and yells surrounding them, not one word of the prophecy could he hear. The figure stopped speaking and dissolved into nothingness._

'_Harry, I'b sorry!' cried Neville, his face anguished as his legs continued to flounder. 'I'b so sorry, Harry, I didn'd bean do –'_

'_It doesn't matter!' Harry shouted. '_Finite Incantatem!' he said instead, pointing his wand at Neville's legs.

Mercifully Neville's legs stopped moving.

'Come on, let's go' Harry shouted.

'_Dubbledore!' said Neville, his sweaty face suddenly transported, staring over Harry's shoulder._

'_What?'_

'_DUBBLEDORE!'_

_Harry turned to look where Neville was staring. Directly above them, framed in the doorway from the Brain Room, stood Albus Dumbledore, his wand aloft, his face white and furious. Harry felt a kind of electric charge surge through every particle of his body – _they were saved.

_Dumbledore sped down the steps pasts Neville and Harry, who had no more thoughts of leaving. Dumbledore was already at the foot of the steps when the Death Eaters nearest realised he was there and yelled to the others. One of the Death Eaters ran for it, scrabbling like a monkey up the stone steps opposite. Dumbledore's spell pulled him back as easily and effortlessly as though he had hooked him with an invisible line – _

_Only one pair was still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: he was laughing at her._

'_Come on, you can do better than that!' he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room._

_The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest._

_The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock._

_Harry released Neville, though he was unaware of doing so. He was jumping down the steps again, pulling out his wand, as Dumbledore, too, turned towards the dais._

_It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall: his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the arch. _

_Harry saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfather's wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind, then fell back into place._

_Harry heard Bellatrix Lestrange's triumphant scream, but knew it meant nothing – Sirius had only just fallen through the archway, he would reappear from the other side any second..._

_But Sirius did not reappear. _

'_SIRIUS!' Harry yelled. 'SIRIUS!'_

_He had reached the floor, his breath coming in searing gasps. Sirius must be just behind the curtain, he, Harry, would pull him back out..._

_But as he reached the ground and sprinted towards the dais, Lupin grabbed Harry around the chest, holding him back._

'_There's nothing you can do, Harry –'_

'_Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!'_

' – _it's too late, Harry.'_

'_We can still reach him –' Harry struggled hard and viciously, but Lupin would not let go..._

'_There's nothing you can do, Harry...nothing...he's gone.'_

_XXXX_

Snape was deep in the Forbidden Forest, walking aimlessly, his thoughts occupied. It was past midnight he realised tiredly. It was useless to continue he decided, and so he turned back towards Hogwarts. In the distance he heard the sound of centaurs rallying. Something had stirred them up and several times Snape had had to cast a quick disillusion charm to prevent himself from being spotted by the rowdy herd. Deciding it was best to avoid the centaurs he struck out to the left, taking the long way back to Hogwarts.

He had been walking for only a few minutes when it happened: a sudden burst of pain. Gasping aloud, he fell to his knees, clutching his head in agony. His vision blurred but he remained conscious. The searing pain disappeared as quickly as it had come but Snape could still feel the pain, although it was dulled.

He remained where he was, kneeling on the floor of the Forest, his breathing heavy. Something terrible had happened to Harry. He was sure of it. A feeling of intense grief washed over Snape and without warning he leant to the side and vomited. Gasping for breath, Snape tried to close his mind. The bond was the source though, an inside assailant that Snape could not block. Instead he struggled to his feet. He needed to get back to Hogwarts and quickly. Stumbling he began to jog towards the Forest boundary.

XXXX

Harry was crouched behind his statue guard, watching as the Ministry's Atrium was torn to pieces by the two wizards. Dumbledore and Voldemort duelled furiously before him, each countering the other's spell as they simultaneously cast their own.

_There was a burst of flame in midair above Dumbledore just as Voldemort reappeared, standing on the plinth in the middle of the pool where so recently the five statues had stood._

'Look out!_' Harry yelled._

_But even as he shouted, another jet of green light flew at Dumbledore from Voldemort's wand and the snake struck –_

_Fawkes swooped down in front of Dumbledore, opened his beak and swallowed the jet of green light whole: he burst into flame and fell to the floor, small, wrinkled and flightless. At the same moment, Dumbledore brandished his wand in one long, fluid movement – the snake, which had been an instant from sinking its fangs into him, flew high into the air and vanished in a wisp of dark smoke; and the water in the pool rose up and covered Voldemort like a cocoon of molten glass._

_For a few seconds Voldemort was visible only as a dark, rippling, faceless figure, shimmering and indistinct upon the plinth, clearly struggling to throw off the suffocating mass –_

_Then he was gone and the water fell with a crash back into its pool, slopping wildly over the sides, drenching the polished floor._

'_MASTER!' screamed Bellatrix._

_Sure it was over, sure Voldemort had decided to flee, Harry made to run out from behind his statue guard, but Dumbledore bellowed: 'Stay where you are, Harry!'_

_For the first time, Dumbledore sounded frightened. Harry could not see why: the hall was quite empty but for themselves, the sobbing Bellatrix still trapped under the witch statue, and the baby phoenix Fawkes croaking feebly on the floor – _

_Then Harry's scar burst open and he knew he was dead: it was pain beyond imagining, pain past endurance –_

_XXXX_

500 miles away Severus Snape collapsed screaming to the ground. It was pain beyond anything he had encountered before. He was gone from the Forest, locked in the binds of a terrible creature. He clawed uselessly at his hair, trying desperately to rid himself of the pain. Snape lost all sense of time as the creature slowly destroyed him. His throat was raw with screaming, but he knew no one could hear him. Finally after what felt like millennia a fist collided with the side of his head. Mercifully blackness engulfed him and he knew no more.

XXXX

**A/N:** Hello all, thanks for the great reviews on the last chapter. Quick explanation about this chapter. To any of you who were hoping Sirius would make it through, my apologies. The italic sections represent text taken from the book. I decided I very much wanted this to follow the events of the night as closely as possible. Obviously though I also wanted this chapter to focus a bit more on Snape's point of view. Assume that most of the stuff at the Ministry happened according to canon (I just didn't want to waste heaps of space typing it all out when we already know the story).

I actually really enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you all enjoy reading it. Everything has come to a head and well Snape's still in a bit of trouble but we'll get to that next chapter. Thoughts, comments - I'd love to hear them in a review. I'm happy to answer questions also if anything was unclear. Until next time :)


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:**Some paraphrasing of the events in Dumbledore's office

Chapter 19 _14th - 18th June, 1996_

Harry sat numbly in Dumbledore's office, the inactive Portkey clutched tightly in his hand. The portraits were watching him but Harry ignored them all. A terrible hollow feeling was welling up inside of him...a vast emptiness – a black hole in his chest – where Sirius had been. He didn't want to think about it, but he could not stop himself. The image of Sirius falling backwards through the veil played over and over in his mind.

The worst of it was that he knew it was _his _fault. If he had only listened to Hermione, stopped for one moment and considered the possibility that it was all a dream. But he hadn't...he had been so determined to _play the hero_ as Hermione had said. As Voldemort had known he would. The thought ate away at him. Even Snape had known he realised. The man had put it together right before Harry had stunned him. But even after Harry had attacked him, Snape had gone straight to the Order when he'd regained consciousness. Whatever hatred Harry had felt for Snape that evening, it was diminished now at the realisation that the man had once again saved his life, however indirectly.

The portraits were stirring now but Harry ignored them. Their cheerfulness was too much for him. _Could they not understand that something terrible had happened?_ The guilt was becoming overwhelming. Harry desperately wanted to escape...to become someone else...anybody else...to simply be unable to feel what he was feeling now.

The fireplace flared green, revealing the spinning form of Albus Dumbledore. The man stepped from the fireplace, receiving cries of welcome from the portraits.

'Thank you,' Dumbledore said humbly to them as he moved away from the fireplace.

Approaching Fawkes' perch he removed the reborn Phoenix from an inner pocket, placing him gently within the ashes. It was then that he turned slowly to face Harry, seating himself opposite, fixing him with a sad gaze.

'Well Harry,' he said gently, 'you will be pleased to know that none of your fellow students will suffer any lasting damage from the night's events.'

Harry tried to answer but he couldn't talk, his throat was strangely tight. Instead he nodded dully in acknowledgement. The portraits were muttering in confusion. _Injuries?_ he heard one ask. Dumbledore was speaking again but Harry hardly heard him. He was drowning in his own grief; struggling to breathe from the weight of it. He registered dimly that Tonks was in St Mungo's but alright.

Dumbledore was studying him again but Harry knew that nothing the Headmaster had to say to him would ease his guilt. There had been only one person Harry had ever spoken to of guilt. And it was him that he wanted to see right now – although he feared he would receive a cold welcome from the man.

'Where's Professor Snape?' he asked, his voice cracking.

Dumbledore looked at him in surprise for a moment before he realised Harry really was asking.

'After alerting the Order he returned to Hogwarts to search the Forest for you,' Dumbledore explained. 'I imagine he will return to his quarters by daybreak.'

Harry frowned at Dumbledore's explanation. _Snape had known he was going to London, he'd as good as shouted it at the man. _And how did Dumbledore know,he thought to himself. None of it made any sense. Once he would have wanted to know the answers, but now it all seemed irrelevant. He was trapped in an endless nightmare.

'Perhaps it would be best if I were to call Professor Snape up here after we have talked,' Dumbledore suggested.

Harry did not respond. Instead he stared glumly out the window, noticing the sky had begun to lighten slowly. Dumbledore seemed unnerved by his silence, Harry realised.

'I know how you're feeling Harry,' he said gently.

Harry turned sharply away from the window, staring at Dumbledore incredulously.

'No you don't,' he said certainly, his voice suddenly loud and strong.

Dumbledore knew _nothing_ of his feelings, he thought angrily. How could he, sitting there unaffected. No, he reasoned, Dumbledore could know nothing of the gaping hole that was slowly tearing Harry apart. He could not understand what Sirius had been to him. What it meant for Harry to have lost him forever.

Phineas Nigellus was talking to Dumbledore now but Harry ignored him. Once again he fixed his gaze out the window. It had lightened enough for him to see the tips of the Quidditch goal hoops. The sight brought no respite though, only memories. A great black dog...Sirius, come to see him play... Harry realised he'd never asked why Sirius had been there. And he never would now, he thought grimly.

'There is no shame in what you are feeling, Harry,' Dumbledore said softly. 'On the contrary...the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength.'

'I don't want to talk about this with you,' Harry bit out, his anger rising at Dumbledore's calmness and empty words.

He was standing now, breathing heavily...so very close to lashing out at Dumbledore. For a moment he wanted to yell at the man before him...to hurt him somehow, so that he could feel just a small part of the pain that was consuming Harry...to stop him, like he had Snape that evening.

And suddenly the overwhelming anger was gone, leaving as quickly as it had come as he remembered. It was his anger that had caused all this. In a moment of madness he had struck down the one man who would have surely stopped him. The thought of Snape's reaction to his current behaviour had Harry resuming his seat.

'Not with you,' he said quietly to the Headmaster. 'I can't talk about it with you...you don't understand... it's _my _fault Sirius died,' the words were wrenched from him, but he knew they were true.

'Harry, older and wiser men have been fooled by Lord Voldemort,' Dumbledore began gently. 'No, the events of this evening were not your fault. In fact they were almost _entirely_ mine.'

Harry looked up at him in confusion.

'It is _my_ fault that Sirius died,' Dumbledore repeated earnestly. 'Sirius loved you too much to have remained behind when he knew you were in danger. Regardless you should never have believed for an instant that there was any necessity for you to go to the Department of Mysteries. If I had been honest with you from the start Harry, as I should have been, you would never have fallen into Voldemort's trap. You would have known that Voldemort might try and lure you to the Department of Mysteries and you would not have gone. And Sirius in turn would not have gone after you. No Harry, the blame for that lies solely with me,' he finished grimly.

There was a moment of silence before the thin voice of Phineas Nigellus was heard.

'Am I to understand that my great-great-grandson – the last of the Blacks – is dead?'

'Yes, Phineas,' said Dumbledore.

'I don't believe it,' said Phineas brusquely.

Harry watched as the man turned stiffly, marching out of his portrait to visit the other which hung in Grimmauld Place. Undoubtedly he would search the entire house, calling in vain for Sirius. The light was beginning to creep into the office now, and Harry hoped tiredly that soon he would be able to see Snape.

'Harry, I owe you an explanation,' Dumbledore began. 'I see now that you were ready for this knowledge a long time ago. I can blame only old age Harry, for I have been blind indeed. I sought to protect you and in doing so I have harmed you grievously. I can only hope that one day you can forgive me for not believing you were strong enough.'

Harry said nothing, which seemed to stall Dumbledore. Uncomfortably the man began again.

'It is necessary for me to begin this tale with your scar though, for only then will you understand what must be done.'

Dumbledore paused for a moment, piercing Harry with his gaze. And in that instant Harry saw how truly sorry the man was.

'I guessed, fifteen years ago,' Dumbledore began gravely, 'when I saw the scar on your forehead, what it might mean. It was not until your first year though that I learnt that I was correct. As I had suspected the scar represented a connection, forged between you and Voldemort. At eleven you were able to detect when Voldemort was near you – even when disguised. And as you continued your years at Hogwarts the connection became more pronounced, particularly once Voldemort had returned to his own body and his full powers. You were able to detect his feelings, his mood, even occasionally you gained glimpses of what he was doing.'

Dumbledore paused for a moment and Harry nodded wearily – he had heard all of this before. Still he tried to listen, although it all seemed irrelevant at present with his mind so clouded by grief.

'More recently,' Dumbledore continued, 'I became concerned that Voldemort might realise that this connection between you exists. Sure enough, there came a time when you entered so far into his mind and thoughts that he sensed your presence. I am speaking, of course, of the night when you witnessed the attack on Mr Weasley.'

'Yeah, I remember,' Harry mumbled. 'Professor Snape told me.'

'Did you not wonder why it was not I who explained this to you?' Dumbledore asked. 'Why I did not teach you Occlumency? Why I had not even so much as looked at you for months?'

'Yeah,' Harry mumbled. 'Yeah I did at first...before I lost my memory.'

'Ah...yes,' Dumbledore agreed.

Harry thought he wanted to say something more but he seemed to reconsider. Dumbledore's gaze moved to the window and he seemed to be lost in thought.

'I distanced myself from you Harry so that if Voldemort were to become aware of the connection you share, he would not be tempted to use it,' said Dumbledore sincerely, his gaze moving back to Harry. 'I feared that he would attempt to possess you – as he did this evening – to use you to spy on me. I do not think I was wrong to be cautious though. In distancing myself from you I was sure that I was removing the any temptation Voldemort might have. Those few times we were in close contact, I thought I saw a shadow of him stir behind your eyes...'

Harry remembered the feeling of a dormant snake rising up within him, prepared to strike at Dumbledore the few times they had made eye-contact this year.

'Sirius informed me of your conversation the night of Arthur Weasley's attack, and in that moment I knew I had been correct. I knew Voldemort would not hesitate to use you and so I organised Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape.'

He paused. Harry was staring at the carpet, only vaguely listening to Dumbledore's explanation. The sun was creeping across the carpet now he realised, reminding him that Snape would be back.

'Please sir,' said Harry, looking up at Dumbledore. 'Can we talk about this later? I can't concentrate at the moment.'

Dumbledore looked at him over his half-moon glasses, and Harry could see concern in his eyes.

'Perhaps it is unwise to continue at present,' he agreed reluctantly, considering the pale boy before him. 'I think it would be best if you were to come down to the Hospital Wing for a bit. Poppy is quite anxious to see you.'

Harry nodded reluctantly; the thought of spending time in the Hospital Wing was not appealing. On the other hand the possibility of a Dreamless Sleep was enticing. He needed to see Severus though before he slept. It could not wait.

'Wait,' he said quickly. 'Can I talk to Professor Snape before we go?'

Dumbledore frowned slightly.

'What happened between you and Professor Snape last night, Harry?' he asked quietly.

Harry blushed before haltingly explaining his actions in Snape's office. When he finished, he thought he caught the smallest twinkle of amusement in the man's eye.

'Very well, Harry,' he said genially.

Standing he moved towards the fireplace, pulling down a small box of floo powder.

'One moment my boy,' he said before disappearing in the green flames.

Harry sat, anxiously chewing his lip as he waited for Dumbledore to return. The flare of the fire caused Harry to jump, but it was only Dumbledore returning albeit with a slight frown.

'It would appear Severus has not yet returned,' said Dumbledore, his gaze flickering to the edge of the Forbidden Forest which could be seen from the high tower window. Summoning a House Elf, Dumbledore enquired as to the location of his Potions Master.

'Master Snape is in the Forbidden Forest with Mistress Umbridge sir,' the timid creature answered.

Dumbledore's eyes flickered to Harry at the mention of Umbridge, before dismissing the House Elf. Harry shifted nervously beneath Dumbledore's piercing gaze. He'd temporarily forgotten that Umbridge had been carried off by the centaurs but Dumbledore did not question him.

'Very well, Harry,' he said gently. 'I shall endeavour to locate our missing staff members. Perhaps it would be best if you were to see Madam Pomfrey now.'

Harry balked at the thought of the Hospital Wing. He wasn't sure he could face his friends yet, not whilst they were still injured.

'Please sir,' he said quickly. 'Can I come with you?'

Dumbledore looked him over, and Harry watched as his gaze softened somewhat.

'As you wish Harry,' said Dumbledore softly.

XXXX

It was still dark beneath the forest canopy, the dawn light only just touching the tops of the tallest trees. Harry followed morosely behind Dumbledore, trying to keep up as the man strode confidently into the Forbidden Forest. Dumbledore seemed to be muttering some kind of incantation which Harry suspected was guiding them towards Snape and Umbridge.

'Interesting,' Dumbledore said after a moment's silence, his eyes twinkling madly. 'It would appear that both Severus and Dolores are in the same place.'

'Err,' Harry began cautiously, 'when we last saw Professor Umbridge she was being dragged off by centaur's sir...if that helps.'

'Perhaps Severus thought he ought to rescue her,' Dumbledore said amiably as he continued onwards.

Harry doubted that, but kept silent. Ten minutes later Harry heard the first sounds of unrest ahead, but they did not come across the herd's clearing immediately. When they did, Harry and Dumbledore found themselves suddenly surrounded by numerous irritated centaurs, all brandishing their spears. For a moment Harry thought they were going to strike, but they stayed their spears when they realised who it was they had surrounded. It seemed that even here Dumbledore's presence was respected, albeit somewhat grudgingly by the fiercer centaurs.

The centaurs parted before Dumbledore allowing him to pass into the centre of their clearing. Harry recognised Bane, standing with a sour expression near the middle of the clearing. Magorian and Ronan were also with him.

'Dumbledore,' greeted Magorian, although his tone was decidedly neutral.

'Magorian,' answered Dumbledore, inclining his head respectfully. 'Ronan, Bane.'

Ronan greeted Dumbledore in kind, but Bane did not reply.

'We had foreseen your return to the school Dumbledore,' said Magorian, 'although your stay shall be only brief now. Mars has become too bright.'

Harry thought he sounded almost regretful and wondered at the meaning behind his words. Dumbledore seemed to be untroubled though, instead smiling warmly before replying.

'Ah,' he said, 'who am I to question fate?'

'Indeed,' agreed Ronan thoughtfully.

A few more courtesies were undertaken before Dumbledore finally asked about his staff members.

'The foul female human is our captive,' answered Bane, his tone hostile. 'She has insulted all of us and trespassed on our lands.'

'And what is it you plan to do with her?' Dumbledore asked calmly.

By Bane's expression Harry thought murder was certainly not out of the question.

'Punish her,' Bane spat bitterly.

'What was it she accused you of?' Dumbledore asked.

'The human doubted our intelligence,' said Magorian coolly. 'She named us filthy half-breeds and had the arrogance to claim our lands. Beasts she called us.'

'Dolores is rather single-minded I'm afraid,' said Dumbledore apologetically. 'But by keeping her here you only support her assertions.'

'How dare you!' roared Bane.

Harry stepped back as the enraged centaur leapt forward, brandishing his spear. Dumbledore remained where he was though, unfazed by the centaurs rage. It was only the timely intervention of Ronan that prevented Bane from following through. Ronan was much smaller than the fierce wild-looking Bane but somehow his grip held Bane in check.

'Leave him Bane,' he said calmly. 'The old man speaks the truth. These humans are simple-minded creatures but this one speaks wisely. Better for them to take the humans,' he finished.

Ronan's calm voice and firm grip seemed to penetrate Bane's rage, and the frustrated centaur turned and cantered off without another word. As the centaurs parted to let Bane pass Harry caught a glimpse of pink beneath a tree. Umbridge appeared unharmed, although rather dishevelled. The centaurs had gagged and tied her to a tree. Her eyes flickered wildly about but she did not seem to recognise Dumbledore as he approached her. With a flick of his wand he released her. Harry expected an angry tirade but instead she stood silent, her eyes wide and fearful.

'Where is Severus?' Dumbledore asked.

It was then Harry realised Snape was not with Umbridge, he looked towards the centaurs in confusion. Many of them wore dark looks, even Ronan, and for a moment no one said anything. Then Magorian stepped forward.

'He is not within the camp,' he said simply. 'He is tainted by evil.'

'What are you talking about?' Harry asked in frustration. 'There's nothing wrong with him!'

The centaurs eyed him coolly, and Dumbledore rested a hand lightly on his shoulder, warning him.

'Perhaps you could explain further?' Dumbledore asked calmly.

'We found him on the eastern border,' Ronan said gravely. 'The human was possessed by a darkness he could not escape. We ensured he was no longer in pain,' Ronan finished simply.

'Please take us to him,' Dumbledore said gravely.

Harry followed closely behind Dumbledore, who was guiding a meek Umbridge before him, as Ronan and Magorian led the way to Snape. As they walked the hair on Harry's neck stood up, as though he were being watched. Although he couldn't see them he knew the herd was watching them closely. Once he caught sight of a young centaur but the boy was quickly pulled back into the undergrowth by his parent, melting easily into the gloom that surrounded them.

The silence was deafening when they entered the small clearing, the centaurs stopping suddenly beneath the canopy.

'We will go no further,' Magorian said gravely. 'The human you seek is beyond the clearing.'

Dumbledore thanked them before moving confidently to cross the clearing. Harry hurried to match his pace to Dumbledore's. The man looked down as Harry levelled with him, giving him a reassuring pat on the back as they left the clearing, once again entering the gloom of the Forbidden Forest. The moment Harry entered the shadows his scar flared with pain, causing him to cry out involuntarily. The pain lasted only a second though but it was eerily reminiscent of the pain he had felt earlier that morning, when Voldemort had possessed him. Dumbledore had stopped at his gasp of pain, and was looking at him with concern now.

'Are you alright Harry?'

'I'm fine,' Harry answered unsurely. 'It was my scar...it felt like Voldemort was possessing me again...' he muttered uneasily.

Dumbledore studied him quietly for a long time, his brow creased in thought.

'Come along,' he said suddenly, as he moved off to continue searching.

But Harry did not move.

'You're going the wrong way,' he said suddenly. He wasn't sure how he knew but he was certain that Snape was in the other direction. 'He's over here,' Harry said, cutting off to the left.

Harry did not wait to see if Dumbledore was following, missing the puzzled look the Headmaster was studying him with. Leading the way Harry stumbled quickly through the undergrowth, barely paying attention to where he was going. A tattered black cloak caught Harry's attention and rounding the tree he found Snape slumped in a heap.

Harry dropped to his knees beside the man as Dumbledore came up behind him. Gently Harry rolled Snape onto his side so that he could see the man's face. The lanky hair was crusted with blood, from a cut above his left eye and a dark bruise had formed around his left temple. Harry tried to rouse him but he was unresponsive.

Dumbledore had crouched beside Harry and was moving his wand slowly over Snape, muttering something indistinct. His brow darkened as he continued to work, as though he found his findings unpleasant. Finally he glanced at Harry with understanding, before tucking his wand away.

'It would be best for Severus if he did not wake yet Harry,' Dumbledore said gently.

'What do you mean?' Harry asked in confusion.

'He is not in his right mind at present,' Dumbledore explained. 'I will explain further once we are back at Hogwarts. For now Severus needs to see Madam Pomfrey, as do you Harry,' he finished gently.

Harry nodded in resignation and watched as Dumbledore conjured a stretcher for Snape. Placing the unconscious man onto it, Dumbledore led the odd procession of stretcher, weary teenager and the meek Umbridge back up to the school.

XXXX

Dumbledore watched quietly as Harry slept soundlessly beside him. Even now, under the effects of a Dreamless Sleep potion, grief was still evident on Harry's features. The boy had been exhausted by the time they'd arrived in the Hospital Wing, yet he had been adamant that Madam Pomfrey see to Severus first. It had taken Dumbledore's assurances that Severus was in no danger at present before the boy had relented. Madam Pomfrey had seen to Harry instantly then, and had had no qualms in giving Albus a thorough dressing down on taking an exhausted teenager into the Forest with him. Albus had endured the storm calmly in the knowledge that he undoubtedly deserved a much more severe reprimand when it came to Harry's wellbeing. The evening's events had taken a toll on Albus and for the first time in a long while he truly felt his age.

He let out a despondent sigh as he watched Harry. He had yet to reveal the prophecy to the boy but he knew he could not withhold the information any longer. Harry had proved too many times now that he was ready for the information.

'You utter fool Albus,' he whispered to himself.

He had made a terrible mistake and it had cost Sirius' his life this evening. The guilt weighed heavily on Dumbledore; he just hoped that Harry would one day forgive him. Whatever Harry may think, Dumbledore was adamant that he had tried to act in the boy's best interest.

The sound of footsteps cut across Dumbledore's thoughts and he looked up to see Poppy approaching him. She looked grim, and Albus could tell she was still angry at him.

'I've dealt with Dolores,' she said curtly, although she kept her voice low, surrounded as they were by sleepers. 'Are you ready for me to see Severus now?'

Dumbledore nodded, getting to his feet. He spared Harry one final glance before following Poppy into her office.

In the event of a teacher falling ill a private room existed whereby the staff member could recover away from the prying eyes of students. The room was located off of Poppy's office and was seldom used. The only staff member who consistently frequented the room was Severus and it was here that Poppy and Dumbledore had placed him. He lay stretched out on the bed, unmoving and unresponsive. A House Elf had replaced his black robes with the standard hospital issue pyjamas, but his head wound had yet to be tended to. It was this that Poppy was focused on now. It took the medi-witch only a moment to sterilise and seal the wound, before she fetched a salve to apply to the dark bruise which covered the man's face. Dumbledore stood quietly watching as Poppy attended to his Potions Master. His thoughts were once again drawn to Harry's change in behaviour towards Severus.

Severus was a difficult man to read at the best of times, but even so he had been unusually tight-lipped about Harry's time spent at Spinner's End. Albus also feared that Severus had been less than forthcoming about the exact nature of the bond he shared with Harry.

'That is all I can do for him at present,' Poppy said suddenly, stepping back from the bedside. 'What exactly has happened to him Albus?'

Dumbledore did not answer immediately, instead conjuring up two seats so that both he and Poppy could sit.

'I believe Severus is currently suffering the effects of possession by Lord Voldemort,' Dumbledore said gravely, earning a shocked gasp from Poppy. 'As to how this has occurred, I admit I am not entirely sure yet.'

'But Albus...is he safe?' Poppy asked worriedly. 'How do we help him?'

Dumbledore glanced sadly over at his motionless Potions Master.

'He is safe at present,' Albus said surely. 'The centaurs have likely preserved his sanity. If he were awake he would be in unimaginable pain,' he finished sadly.

'Will he wake?' Poppy asked.

'That I cannot answer,' said Dumbledore. 'He will only wake now once he has overthrown the possession.'

'That's impossible Albus!' Poppy cried in distress.

She stood, moving to Severus' bedside, staring down at the man sadly.

'It is not impossible Poppy,' Albus said gently, moving to stand beside her before calmly guiding her back to her seat. 'Earlier this evening I witnessed someone fight and break Lord Voldemort's possession over them.'

'Harry,' Poppy said simply.

Dumbledore nodded gravely.

'He is a remarkable child and I believe he is the only one who can help Severus now.'

A flicker of understanding seemed to cross Poppy's face at his words.

'Perhaps you could tell me what Severus told you of the bond he shared with Harry?' Dumbledore asked.

'Severus said that the bond was only one-way,' Poppy said, frowning in confusion. 'He was adamant that he would suffer no side effects.'

'I thought as much,' Dumbledore agreed. 'I suspect Severus has been somewhat liberal with the truth. His current condition would suggest that the bond is certainly two-way.'

'What do you mean?'

'This is not a true possession Poppy,' Dumbledore answered. 'As real as it may be to Severus, it is merely the echo of Harry's possession this evening. The nature of the bond Harry and Severus share is such that a small part of Harry is recognised by Severus and vice versa. When Harry was possessed this evening, Lord Voldemort took control of his entire mind and in doing so he inadvertently possessed Severus at the same time. The true possession ended when Harry threw Voldemort from his mind. The nature of possession is such though, that Severus must rid _himself_ of his own demons.'

'But he is unaware Albus, completely unresponsive to the outside world...to us' said Poppy. 'He will not be able to help himself, it is likely that he does not even realise he is being possessed.'

'You are quite correct Poppy,' Dumbledore answered calmly. 'Severus cannot hear you or I but there is one person he will be able to hear. The bond they share will be enough, I think, to allow Severus to recognise Harry, simply because there is a part of Harry's mind that recognises Severus.'

'How can Harry help him though?' Poppy asked unsurely, although Dumbledore was pleased to see she seemed more hopeful.

'Harry has already shown that he has the ability to fight possession by Lord Voldemort,' said Dumbledore. 'I have complete confidence that he will be able to guide Severus back.'

'I hope you're right Albus,' said Poppy as she stood. 'For both their sakes.'

With that she left, returning to the Hospital Wing to watch over the six students who slept within. Dumbledore did not move for a long while, instead he sat watching the steady rise and fall of Severus' chest.

'I hope I am too,' he said softly.

He stood then, and left the room, with a soft swish of his cloak. He had a school to run.

XXXX

Harry sat silently in a chair beside Snape's bedside. Several days had passed since Sirius had died. Professor Dumbledore had come to see him on Friday evening. They had spoken in the Headmaster's office, and there Harry had heard the entirety of the Prophecy. Professor Trelawney's words still echoed in his head, driving him to distraction.

'_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...'_

Dumbledore had also spoken to him about Snape. Harry was supposed to be the only one who could help Severus now. Dumbledore had explained how Harry's ability to love had been what had driven Voldemort out. Harry wasn't so sure. All he remembered feeling at the time was grief for Sirius. Even if it had been love, he wasn't sure how that could possibly help Snape. He didn't even know if the man would be able to hear him if he did talk to him.

Harry had spent most of the weekend alternating between seeing his friends and spending ever increasing amounts of time alone, wandering the school grounds. The weight of the Prophecy and the numbness he felt at Sirius' loss had consumed him. It had taken several days for him to find the courage to face Snape. A part of him dreaded that Snape would never wake, and that he would simply be another person Harry had lost. Now that he was here though, Harry was at a loss as to what he should do.

Almost an hour had passed as Harry continued his silent vigil. Eventually when the shadows had grown so long that the room was almost in darkness he stood.

'I'm sorry...' he whispered to the unmoving man. 'I don't know how I can help you...'

For a second Harry thought he'd seen Snape's eyelids flutter but it was too dark in the room for him to be sure. He waited a moment longer, but Snape did not move. Sadly he crossed the room, exiting into Madam Pomfrey's office.

As Harry stepped into her office, Madam Pomfrey looked up, giving him a comforting look.

'How is he Harry?' she asked.

'I don't think I can help him...' Harry admitted.

'I know it doesn't seem like he'll be able to hear you but it might help him if you just talk to him Harry,' she said.

Harry nodded glumly.

'I'll try to next time,' he said, before leaving the office.

He stepped out into the Hospital Wing. A light was on by Hermione's bedside. Harry walked over, noticing that Ron was asleep in the bed next to Hermione's. Of the friends he'd taken to the Department of Mysteries only Ron and Hermione were still in the Hospital Wing.

'How was he?' Hermione asked as she caught sight of Harry.

'I don't know,' Harry said wearily as he sat in the bedside chair. 'I don't know what Dumbledore thinks I can do...'

Hermione smiled gently at him before reaching out a hand to grip Harry's own, wincing slightly as the movement jostled her still tender chest.

'I'm sure he'll be fine,' said Hermione. 'Dumbledore's not worried about him.'

Harry smiled tiredly at her.

'I better go,' he said. 'I'll see you tomorrow.'

XXXX

Harry returned to the Hospital Wing early the next morning. The school year was rapidly drawing to a close and fifth and seventh years having finished exams had no scheduled classes. Many of his fellow students had taken to visiting Hogsmeade and strolling in the grounds, but Harry was content to spend his time in the Hospital Wing. After spending the morning talking with Ron and Hermione he made his way in to see Snape, greeting Madam Pomfrey as he passed through her office. She gave Harry an encouraging smile, and he was reminded of her advice the previous night. Pulling up the chair beside Snape's bedside he sat down.

'Madam Pomfrey said I should try talking to you,' he said hesitantly, looking out the window as he spoke.

'I don't really know what to say...' he continued. 'I owe you an apology sir...I wish I could take back everything I said that night. All my memories of you and Sirius had come back so quickly and I wasn't thinking...at all really. I don't know why I couldn't remember Sirius before...I guess it had something to do with what you wanted me to remember.'

He was quite for a long time then, recalling Snape's explanation of how his memory was likely to return. How Severus himself was influencing the return of the memories.

'I know why you didn't tell me,' he said quietly into the silence. 'Sirius was a jerk to you wasn't he? Him and my dad...I never asked him why, but I wish they hadn't been like that. When I saw that memory...I was so angry with myself. I'd always thought you were lying about my father...but you weren't were you? And my mum...she seemed to hate him. How could she have married him?'

Harry lapsed into silence again, thoughts of his parents running through his head. Not for the first time he found himself wishing he could remember them.

'I don't think you meant to call her Mudblood,' Harry began again, his voice cracking slightly. 'I know you were her friend...whenever you spoke about her at home I could tell you cared about her. I guess you let your anger get the better of you...like me. I never meant to call you a Death Eater...you're not, you know...you're nothing like them. I guess we're both pretty stupid when we get angry,' Harry said jokingly, a small smile curling his lip.

It was the first time he'd smiled since Sirius had died. The smile lasted only a moment though at the memory of Sirius.

'Sirius died,' Harry said suddenly. 'Bellatrix Lestrange killed him... He came to the Ministry, even though you told him not to...I wish he'd listened to you...or I'd listened to you. If I'd let you talk none of this would have happened...and Sirius would still be alive...'

He took a deep breath before continuing on.

'Have you ever wished you could go back in time and change it all? Make it so it never happened...'

Harry stood up suddenly, needing to pace. Eventually he stopped, returning to gaze out of the window once more, recalling all the time he'd spent with Sirius and wishing it had been more. He continued to stare out the window as he began to talk once again, not realising that Madam Pomfrey had come in to check on him.

'I finally remembered how I lost my memory,' said Harry, his tone less burdened. 'You threw a jar of cockroaches at me for looking in your Pensieve.'

And suddenly he was laughing. The whole situation seemed so ludicrous to him.

'The stupid thing is,' he said quietly as he stopped laughing, 'I'm glad you did. It's just a shame it took losing my memory for me to realise how mistaken I was in you.'

XXXX

Poppy shifted uncomfortably at the door, aware that she had intruded on an intensely private moment, although Harry remained oblivious to her presence. She couldn't help but realise what she'd overheard. When Severus woke up she'd have a few choice words for the man. Eventually when it looked like Harry was going to continue staring out the window she knocked softly to announce her presence.

The boy turned quickly at the sound, but relaxed immediately when he realised who it was. Poppy noticed the deep bags beneath his eyes immediately; Harry was obviously still not sleeping properly.

'How is he Harry?' she asked gently.

'The same,' the boy replied glumly. 'I don't know what I'm supposed to do.'

Poppy moved to the bedside, taking out her wand to assess Severus' vitals as she did so.

'Perhaps if you simply try and tell him what you did it might help,' she suggested as she checked Severus' pupillary light reflex.

'I hadn't really thought of it like that,' Harry said embarrassedly.

Poppy paused in her diagnostic, an anomaly distracting her for a moment. Swiftly she rolled up Severus' left sleeve, knowing what she would find beneath. The skin around the Dark Mark was inflamed and the tattoo itself had turned black.

'He's being called isn't he?' Harry said from beside her.

Poppy looked over to see the boy studying the mark with distaste.

'I'm afraid so,' she agreed. 'Albus will need to be informed.'

'Is he in pain?' Harry asked in a strained voice.

'I can't be sure,' answered Poppy. 'I only noticed because my diagnostic picked up the local inflammation. It's possible he's been called repeatedly for a while.'

Harry stood beside her, staring grimly at the offensive tattoo.

'There are a few things I need to do for Severus, Harry,' Poppy said gently, 'but you're welcome to come back in an hour or so.'

'Oh right,' said the teen hurriedly, turning a deep shade of pink in understanding. 'I'll come back later.'

Grabbing his bag off the bedside table the boy left the room quickly, leaving Poppy alone with her patient.

XXXX

Harry returned the next morning to Severus' bedside. Silently he took up his seat, studying the Potions Master for any change, noticing only the new stubble that covered the man's jaw line.

'Hello Severus,' he said quietly. 'You've been asleep for almost five days now. I think Professor Dumbledore's starting to get a bit worried. He was here earlier, but he couldn't get you to wake up...he still thinks I'll be able to though...'

Harry paused for a moment, trying not to think about how stupid he sounded talking to himself. He needed to tell Severus about his own experience. Without really thinking about it he began to talk.

'I thought I was dead...every part of me wanted to die...I couldn't think...I couldn't see or move or anything...I was trapped...but I was still there. He was using me to talk...he wanted Dumbledore to kill me...it's what I wanted as well. I wanted the pain to stop...' Harry trailed off then, remembering what he had thought at the time.

'But it stopped when I thought about Sirius...I thought I'd see Sirius again if he...if Dumbledore...' Harry stopped again.

'It was grief that stopped him,' Harry said, his voice cracking. 'All my memories of Sirius...he couldn't stand them...Dumbledore called it love though...'

Once more Harry broke off as a realisation hit him.

'The last few days I've thought Dumbledore was wrong...but he wasn't. It _was_ love that stopped him...I was just so upset I didn't realise it at the time.'

Harry sat in silence as understanding washed over him. Grief and love were two sides of the same coin. You couldn't grieve for someone without first loving them. His gaze moved to Snape once again. Hermione had told him yesterday that sometimes it helped if you reached out to the person, grounded them by letting them know someone was with them. Without thinking Harry reached out a hand and grasped Snape's own limp one in his.

'You have to think about someone you care about,' he said determinedly. 'It's the only way you'll wake up...please Severus...'

Harry sat anxiously staring at Severus, hoping that the man could hear his words. He waited for so long but Snape did not wake. The shadows were lengthening now and a feeling of despair swept over Harry. It hadn't worked, he realised. He had been so sure though that Snape would understand. Gently he loosened his grip on Snape's hand, preparing to stand up.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered.

As the words left his lips, the loose fingers he'd been holding so tightly tightened of their own accord. Harry looked down in stunned bewilderment to realise Snape was grasping his hand now. Looking up he watched as Snape's eyelids flickered, as the man fought his way to consciousness.

'Madam Pomfrey!' Harry called out over his shoulder.

Turning back his gaze met Snape's own. His eyes were weary and the shadow of pain was still on him but the man managed a weak smile. And for Harry, that was enough.

XXXX

**A/N:** Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. The next will probably take a bit longer but I'll try my best. Thanks to all my reviewers, it's fantastic hearing your thoughts!


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N:** 16/04/2012: The sequel "The Truth is Hidden in Memory" has now been posted. I can't actually find a hyperlink for the story specifically but the id number is - id:8029373 If you can't find it on the search bar I'd suggest going to my profile and selecting the story from there: .net/~castlephoenix

Hope you enjoy!

_If you've reached 'The Truth is Hidden in Memory' by receiving a notification here (if you had story alert for this story) could you please leave me a review to let me know. I'm not too sure if just replacing a chapter with an added A/N has alerted people to the sequel. It would be much appreciated. Cheers, CP_

Chapter 20 _18th - 21st June, 1996_

Snape could not recall ever having felt as weak and helpless as he did at present. He tried to shift himself into a sitting position, as Harry called out for Poppy once more, but his arms were incapable of supporting his weight. Harry noticed his futile efforts and within seconds the boy had helped him easily into a sitting position against the headboard. The sound of quick footsteps caught Snape's attention as Poppy entered the room.

'Well done, Harry,' she said, smiling warmly at the tired boy. 'Would you mind fetching Professor Dumbledore? I just need to give Severus a quick once over...'

Harry seemed disinclined to leave, seeking Snape's approval first before he left reluctantly for the Headmaster's office. A deafening silence fell upon the room with Harry's departure. Poppy said nothing as she worked on Severus, checking his vitals and conducting a brief neurological examination. Severus wondered what he had done this time, and was on the point of asking when Poppy set down her wand angrily and finally addressed him.

'Honestly Severus,' she began exasperatedly, 'I don't know what to do with you! If I hadn't just spent the last few days wondering if you'd ever wake up I might just be tempted to curse you myself.'

Snape frowned in confusion, as Poppy began to pace before him.

'Just what were you thinking Severus?' she demanded. 'Actually that's the problem – you clearly weren't thinking at all were you? Assaulting a student!'

Snape's face paled considerably as he realised what Poppy was talking about.

'And then to pretend you knew nothing about it! If you and Harry hadn't sorted out your differences I'd damn well have you on probation Severus. As it is you're lucky Harry seems to have forgiven you already. I don't know what went on whilst you were away but that boy trusts you, Merlin help him I think he even looks up to you. But know this Severus Snape; if you _ever_ hurt that boy again I _will_ make sure you regret it!'

Snape shifted uneasily beneath her gaze, well aware that Poppy meant every single word.

'It won't happen again Poppy,' he tried to say, but all that came out was a whispered rasp, which turned into a wracking cough.

For a heart-stopping moment Severus struggled to breathe but Poppy was beside him, clearing his airway with a simple spell. Snape fell back against his pillows, completely exhausted whilst Poppy stood over him studying him with concern.

'You've damaged your vocal cords Severus,' she said gently.

She didn't need to say why; they both knew how it had come about. He wasn't sure how long he had been screaming before the centaurs had found him, but it had been long enough to cause damage.

'There's not much I can do Severus, except to prescribe rest and recuperation,' Poppy said apologetically.

Snape nodded numbly, it was what he had expected.

'You've been through an ordeal Severus, you need to take some time to recover,' she continued. 'Regardless of what I said before I'm – we're – all glad you're awake.'

She smiled down at him and Severus knew he was forgiven. Approaching footsteps caught his attention and Severus looked expectantly towards the door. Albus entered from Poppy's office, followed closely by Harry.

'Severus,' said Dumbledore, and Snape realised with surprise that he sounded quite relieved.

Before he could answer Poppy was speaking.

'He's not to speak Albus,' she was saying sternly. 'He's damaged his vocal cords enough without having to answer your questions.'

Snape barely heard them though as a searing pain laced up his left arm. Automatically his right hand grasped the left forearm, an action missed by none in the room. Poppy, Albus and Harry all stared at him in surprise; Poppy breaking off mid rant, but Snape ignored all of them. Regardless of how he was feeling at present he needed to answer the summons.

With a momentous effort he forced himself to get out of the bed. Only at the last minute did he realise he was too weak to remaining standing. He felt his legs give way beneath him and in a moment of bemused clarity realised he was going to hit the floor. Before he did though, someone grabbed him around the waist taking his weight off his useless legs. Snape looked over in surprise to find Harry supporting him. Without a word Harry guided him back to the bed, seating him on the edge, before stepping back.

Poppy was studying him with concern, apparently disconcerted by his lack of strength, whilst Albus was gazing at Harry, deep in thought. Severus took a moment to regain his composure before looking beseechingly towards Albus. He alone would understand Severus' need to answer the summons. Albus seemed to feel his gaze and looked towards him in understanding.

The silence was broken as Albus summoned a House Elf.

'Please fetch Professor Snape's Death Eater robes,' he instructed calmly.

Snape inclined his head in appreciation to Albus as the House Elf disappeared with a 'pop', leaving the room in a strained silence which was broken seconds later.

'You can't be serious!' Harry exclaimed in outrage. 'He can't even stand by himself!'

Albus ignored Harry, instead turning towards Poppy.

'Please fetch Severus a Strengthening Solution,' he requested.

Poppy seemed in two minds but she left the room without a word to fetch the required potion.

'This is ridiculous,' Harry said loudly in anger, frustrated that Dumbledore was ignoring him.

He had no idea what Dumbledore was playing at but it was obvious that Severus was in no state to be visiting Voldemort.

'Why are you making him do this?' he demanded.

'He's not.'

It was not much more than a whisper but Harry knew who had spoken. Turning Harry stared at Severus in shock. The man was still seated on the edge of the bed but the hospital issue pyjamas had been discarded for his elaborate Death Eater robes. The House Elf had returned without Harry's knowledge, and Severus had performed a simple switching charm to dress himself quickly. The man was staring at him calmly now, adjusting his robes fastidiously as he awaited Poppy's return.

'I don't understand,' Harry said, frowning in confusion. 'Why are you going?'

The boy looked back over his shoulder at Albus, and it was clear to Snape that Harry still thought he was going under duress.

'This is my choice Harry,' he said gently, wincing slightly at the pain of talking. 'Albus did not force this upon me. I do this because I have a debt to repay.'

Harry looked like he wanted to say something more but he was stopped by the arrival of Poppy. The boy simply frowned at him as he watched Poppy approach Severus.

'I trust you understand the implications of taking this in your current condition?' she said disapprovingly.

Snape shot her a warning glance; he was having enough difficulty with Harry at present without the boy asking more questions. Unfortunately he was well aware of the potions side-effects. Taking it in his current state would give him enough strength to attend the summons but he knew that when the potion wore off he'd be in a worse state than he was currently. The potion, which was designed to enhance a person's normal strength, was too potent to be taken in a weakened state. Still he had no choice, and without further thought he downed the potion in one.

The effect was instantaneous and he felt the strength return to his limbs. He waited a few seconds before confidently getting to his feet. He could see Harry was still doubtful though, a slight frown creasing the boy's forehead. He placed his hand reassuringly on Harry's shoulder, gaining the boy's attention.

'I'll be fine Harry,' he said calmly.

His voice was still hoarse, but it sounded stronger now. He waited until Harry nodded reluctantly, before giving the boy's shoulder a quick squeeze and turning back to Albus.

'Perhaps you would accompany me to the gates Albus,' he said. 'There are a few things I should like to discuss with you.'

Dumbledore nodded and before Harry could raise any further objections Severus walked swiftly out of the room, followed closely by Albus.

XXXX

The room Severus had been summoned to was dim, lit only by the flickering light of a dying fire. An armchair sat near the fire but the Dark Lord was not seated. Instead the pale man stood with his back to Severus, staring out of one of the majestic windows which lined the room. Severus approached the man, stopping several feet away and dropping to his knees.

The fire dimmed further, and Snape lost track of time as he remained kneeling before the Dark Lord. His muscles were in agony but he did not allow himself to move. Finally the Dark Lord spoke but he did not turn to face Severus.

'You have ignored my summons Severus,' he said coldly. 'Yet you have returned tonight.'

The man turned suddenly, his red gaze piercing Severus. His lip curled slightly, as though he found Severus' position amusing.

'Why is that Severus?' he asked silkily, although there was a dangerous undertone to his request.

'I was incapacitated, My Lord,' he answered honestly, aware that the Dark Lord would not listen to a lengthy explanation.

'Ah yes,' sneered Voldemort. 'The great _Severus Snape_, incapacitated by a herd of centaurs, for almost a week. Dear me Severus, you must be losing your touch.'

Snape said nothing. He was not entirely surprised that the Dark Lord knew he had been in the Hospital Wing; undoubtedly one of his Slytherin students had informed their parents of his condition. Still it was troubling that the student had reported the story so accurately. The Dark Lord approached him, but Snape did not move.

'My question is, Severus,' said the Dark Lord, his tone no longer amused, his rage barely concealed, 'why were you in the Forbidden Forest in the first place?'

Voldemort's rage broke and Snape groaned aloud as a boot connected with his side. Sharp pain blossomed over his left side as he pushed himself back into his kneeling position. No sooner had he righted himself then Voldemort struck him once again. Snape gasped in pain as the boot found the same mark. Breathing was suddenly agony but he forced himself back into a kneeling position. The third time the boot sent him sprawling Snape could no longer rise, the pain was too great. Instead he focused on simply protecting his head and abdomen as the Dark Lord mercilessly kicked at him, all the while demanding answers.

'What were you doing in the Forest? Who sent you there? Why was the Order alerted to Harry Potter's disappearance from Hogwarts? How did you become aware that Harry Potter had left Hogwarts?'

Voldemort repeated the questions several times before the beating stopped. Before he stepped away though, the Dark Lord bent towards Snape and grabbed a fistful of his hair. Dragging him into a kneeling position by his hair he crouched beside Snape.

'You have one chance to explain Severus,' he threatened before roughly pushing Severus aside.

Voldemort stood then and moved to his armchair, seating himself before looking expectantly towards Snape. Severus had pulled himself back into a kneeling position and took a moment to steady himself. His thoughts were fuzzy, and blood was dripping into his mouth from a broken nose, but he needed to concentrate. He was in a terrible amount of pain but his life depended on how he answered the Dark Lord. He had discussed potential explanations with Albus as they'd walked down to the school gates. Now though, he could only hope the Dark Lord would accept his explanation.

'My Lord,' he began, his words coming in gasps as he struggled to breathe. 'I was under the impression... that Harry Potter had simply wandered off into the forest... When the Headmistress... failed to attend dinner... I believed Potter had led her astray within the Forest. Prior to... his departure... Dumbledore commanded me to contact the Order if the boy ever disappeared from the school grounds... I believed it was a waste of time... but I followed his orders and made contact with the Order later that evening... I was told to return to the school... and to search the grounds for him... I was not aware that the Order... would consider searching the Ministry...I believe it was because Moody was there...he has always been suspicious of me... My Lord, if I had known that Lucius had planned to steal the boy away that evening... I would never have interfered.'

The Dark Lord considered his words, fiddling idly with his yew wand.

'It is unfortunate that Lucius did not see fit to inform you,' the Dark Lord finally answered. 'His arrogance has cost me more than I care to admit. Nevertheless Severus, you are not entirely without blame. Your actions, however mistaken, cost me my prophecy. _Crucio!_' he cried.

Snape had been expecting it but he could not stop himself from gasping in pain as he writhed on the floor. The Dark Lord did not hold the curse for long, for which Severus was grateful. Pulling himself back to his knees he waited expectantly for the Dark Lord to speak.

'I do not doubt your loyalty Severus, but I will not tolerate further mistakes,' he said coldly. 'Harry Potter stopped me from hearing the prophecy but that is no matter now, he will be killed eventually. The boy is a fool, as is Dumbledore. All they have done is start a war – one which I mean to win. Your time is coming Severus. Dumbledore must not doubt you now. Follow his every order, no matter how ridiculous it may be. We shall not discuss it now, but know this Severus: if you hesitate when the time comes, your life will be forfeit. Now leave me.'

Snape rose unsteadily to his feet and left the room. His strength was fast deserting him and he hurried to apparate away. It was only when he reappeared, gasping beneath the Hogwarts gates that he began to consider the implications of the Dark Lord's words.

Apparating seemed to have used the last of his strength and without warning his legs gave out beneath him. With a groan of pain he ended up sprawled beneath the great winged boar gates, utterly spent. Tremors wracked his body, a consequence of taking the Strengthening Solution and suffering the Cruciatus. With the last of his strength he summoned his Patronus. It was such a weak attempt that it took no form, but it would be enough if his will was strong enough to hold it intact. Giving it his instructions he sent it away, hoping it would reach Albus. He fought to keep himself awake but it was useless, within moments his eyes had drifted shut as he slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

XXXX

For the second time that week Albus found himself directing a stretcher bearing his Potions Master. Albus had been in his office when all that remained of Severus' Patronus reached him. Undoubtedly Severus had instructed it to bring him a message, but it was so weak that it had simply dissolved before his eyes. Intuitively he had hurried to the front gates where he had found Severus passed out, his breathing significantly laboured, against the gate post. Just looking at Severus, Albus knew Poppy was not going to be pleased.

The lights in the Hospital Wing were dimmed, its occupants fast asleep. Silently Albus made his way past the beds towards Poppy's office, where a light was on. Entering he found Poppy filling out paperwork. Surprisingly Harry was curled up in an armchair, a light blanket thrown over him, fast asleep. Poppy looked up as he entered, immediately catching sight of the floating stretcher behind him.

'Bring him through Albus,' she said quickly, gesturing to the private room.

Carefully Albus directed the stretcher through, guiding Severus onto the bed. Poppy followed behind him, lighting the lamps with her wand before moving forward to examine Severus. Automatically Poppy stripped back his robes, revealing the extent of the damage done to Severus' torso. Already deep bruising extended over his chest, several of which were suspiciously boot shaped in nature. It was particularly dense over Severus' left lower ribs and it was hear that Poppy examined first.

'He has several broken ribs,' she said after a moment, 'one of which has punctured his lung. Fixing that should ease his breathing.'

Stepping back she withdrew her wand before performing a complex spell designed to seal the pleural space and remove any abnormal collection of fluid or air within the space. A second spell was used to disinfect the area to prevent secondary infection of the lungs by bacterium. Finally she muttered _Episkey_ several times, healing the fractured ribs. As Poppy completed her spells Severus' breathing became noticeably less laboured, until finally he sounded peaceful.

'The injuries were a few hours old, so he's still going to be quite sore when he wakes up,' explained Poppy. 'Coupled with his use of the Strengthening Solution I'm going to recommend he remain bed-ridden until the end of term.'

'That sounds perfectly reasonable Poppy,' agreed Albus. 'I'll ensure he understands your wishes. Does he have any other injuries?'

'I'm worried about his spleen,' admitted Poppy. 'It hasn't ruptured but it's received extensive damage, it's not the first time either. I can treat it effectively enough but I'm not sure how much more he can take Albus. His nose has also been broken again.'

Dumbledore sighed uncomfortably.

'I'll have a word with him Poppy,' he said finally. 'I'll fetch some pyjamas for him if you want to finish up?'

Poppy nodded, already turning back to Severus. Albus made his way back into the Hospital Wing, moving towards the storage closet. Routinely he selected Severus' size and made his way back to the private room, not realising that Harry had woken at the sound of voices. Poppy had fixed Severus' nose Albus noted and put a line in through which she was infusing a potion, undoubtedly to repair the damage done to his spleen. Absentmindedly Albus flicked his wand, dressing Snape in the hospital issue pyjamas.

'What happened?' came a sleepy voice from the doorway.

Dumbledore turned in surprise to find a sleepy-eyed Harry standing confusedly in the doorway.

'He's fine now Harry,' Albus answered gently as the boy approached the bedside.

'What's that for?' Harry asked, pointing towards where Poppy was bandaging the cannula into place.

'It's nothing to worry about Harry,' said Poppy as she finished up. 'Because Severus is unconscious the IV line allows me to administer the potion he needs.'

'Is he alright?' Harry asked.

'He's going to be sore for a few days but he'll be fine,' answered Poppy. 'Now young man, you need to go back to bed.'

'Okay,' the boy agreed, after a moment's silence.

Albus could see the boy was reluctant to leave the Hospital Wing and so he offered a compromise.

'You might as well spend the remainder of the night here Harry,' he said genially, 'but do try not to make it a habit.'

Harry's relief was evident immediately and the boy spared him a small smile before thanking him and leaving the office to find a bed. Albus watched him go sadly, aware that Harry's grief was still raw. He wasn't surprised that Harry wanted to be close to Severus. The two had become much closer than Albus had ever expected, and for that he was grateful. He suspected that they would both need each other before the war was done. Sighing, he left the Hospital Wing, walking the silent corridors to retire to his own rooms.

XXXX

Snape groaned as he returned to consciousness. His whole body ached and he was vaguely aware of a dull uncomfortable pain every time he breathed in. Blearily he opened his eyes to find himself once more in the Hospital Wing. The light was intensely bright, causing him to shut his eyes once more. He'd known that taking the Strengthening Solution would leave him in a weakened state but even he hadn't expected such utter exhaustion. The previous night's events were blurry but he remembered the beating he'd taken. He'd broken ribs before but the fact that he was still in some pain after being attended to by Poppy made him wonder if he'd suffered more damage than he could recollect. Vaguely he recalled that his nose had been broken once again. It had to be the fifth or sixth time, he realised. Poppy would not be happy. Each time he broke it she worried that it would not set right. Steeling himself he tried to raise a hand to inspect the damage.

Only then did he realise that his hand had been bandaged. Opening his eyes once again he inspected his right hand with distaste realising Poppy had inserted a line. There had only been a few occasions when Poppy had resorted to inserting a line but Severus knew that it meant a long stay in the Hospital Wing. Without hesitating he promptly set to work on removing the line.

'Should you be doing that?'

Snape turned sharply in surprise at the sound; he had thought he was alone in the room. Harry was standing half hidden in shadow by the window, his brow creased by a slight frown. The boy looked tired Snape noted, as Harry stepped away from the window. Snape watched as Harry seated himself in the bedside chair, waiting expectantly for an answer. Turning back to his hand, Snape deftly removed the cannula, ignoring the small trickle of blood that followed. Harry didn't say anything but Snape could tell he disapproved.

'Poppy,' he began but stopped promptly, his voice nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

He had forgotten the damage done to his vocal cords. It seemed attending the Dark Lord had only made it worse, he thought sourly. Aware of the limits of his voice he tried again.

'Poppy has a habit of overreacting,' he supplied in explanation.

Harry looked doubtful but he raised no further objections, instead staring fixedly across the room. Snape was unused to having bedside visitors and found himself oddly uncomfortable. With effort, he pushed himself into a sitting position.

'You heard everything I said...when you were unconscious...didn't you?'Harry finally asked quietly.

Snape shifted uncomfortably at the line of questioning. He remembered little of the experience excepting the pain and fear which had consumed him. For an unknowable time he had been locked within his own mind, trying desperately to remember himself beneath the crushing weight of the Dark Lord's presence. Unable to see or hear he had lost himself. He had been completely devoid of hope when Harry had finally spoken.

'_I'm sorry...I don't know how I can help you_...'

Severus did not think he would ever forget those words or the absurd feeling of hope which they had brought with them. Severus had struggled to wake then but could not rid himself of the Dark Lord's presence. Finally Harry had talked him through his own possession and the key to escaping it. Snape had immediately thought of Lily but she hadn't been enough. Absurdly it was the recollection of the time he had spent at Spinner's End with Harry that had brought him back. And it was the realisation that he _cared_ about the messy-haired green-eyed teenager, which had shocked Severus to his core.

Finally Snape nodded.

'Good,' Harry said gruffly. 'I meant everything I said...I still do. I want to apologise properly though...for everything that happened that night.'

'No,' Snape said swiftly, cutting Harry off.

Harry looked at him in confusion.

'But –'

'There is nothing to apologise for Harry,' Snape said quietly. 'You are not to blame for any of the events that evening. You simply did the best you could with the information you had available to you.'

'But I should have listened to you!' interjected Harry.

'Perhaps,' said Severus. 'But equally so _I_ should have told you about Black.'

Snape paused for a moment, wondering if he should continue. Throwing caution to the wind he plunged onwards.

'Initially,' he began, pausing every now and then to rest his voice, 'I was disinclined to inform you of your godfather's existence simply because I believed you were a spoiled arrogant brat. I believed that if you learnt of his existence you would demand that you see him. I had no desire to interact with Sirius Black anymore than was necessary and so I did not tell you. The longer we spent together though the more I realised I had misjudged you badly. You were none of the things I had so often accused you of being. Eventually I began to wonder whether I should tell you...but you never asked again.'

Harry was silent for a long time, staring pensively at the ground.

'The memory I saw,' he began hesitatingly, 'my dad...Sirius...were they always like that?'

Snape could see the disappointment and apprehension in the boy's gaze and knew he could not answer the question. Harry could not understand without knowing the full story and that was something Severus could not tell him. Not yet at least.

'Perhaps it would be best if you spoke to Lupin about this,' he said instead, implying that the topic was closed.

Harry looked like he wanted to object but he held his tongue, instead fiddling with a loose thread. Snape got the distinct impression that something pressing was on the boy's mind.

'Did she love him?' the boy finally burst out wretchedly.

Snape did not need to know who he was asking about. So many years had passed yet he still found it hard to admit that Lily Evans _had_ loved James Potter. It seemed like such an absurd question for Harry to ask him though. The boy's existence was proof enough to Snape. He could not quite bring himself to answer though, instead he simply nodded.

Snape's nod seemed to relieve the boy, his posture relaxing slightly.

'You stayed friends though, didn't you?' Harry asked suddenly. 'You and my mum after...'

Harry trailed off but Snape knew he was referring to the 'Mudblood' incident. This time he could not answer, but his silence seemed answer enough for Harry. The boy frowned in confusion as the silence lengthened until Severus finally broke it.

'You should go to dinner Harry,' he said, his voice husky.

The boy nodded grimly before getting up and moving to the door.

'I'll come back later,' he promised before disappearing, leaving Snape to his memories.

XXXX

The rest of the week passed quickly for Snape. Poppy had arrived almost immediately after Harry had left, subjecting Severus to a thirty minute lecture for removing her IV line. In the end Snape apologised several times to placate the woman before she finally left him in peace. Albus had visited him later that evening and Severus had informed him of the Dark Lord's parting words. The Headmaster had not seemed overly worried; instead the man had seemed more interested in discussing Harry's behaviour with him. Severus had said little on the topic, but his silence seemed to only reassure Albus.

Harry had spent increasing amounts of time with Severus as the week had progressed. The boy said little, instead seeming content to simply sit by the window reading through textbooks. It was out of character for Harry to be so silent and eventually Severus had been so alarmed by the change that he had spoken to Poppy several times. It was obvious to both of them that Harry was struggling to accept Black's death. The Headmaster had informed him earlier that Harry had specifically declined speaking to him in favour of Severus but the few times Severus had approached the topic of his godfather the boy would come up with an excuse and leave immediately. Eventually Severus had stopped trying in the hope that Harry would talk when he was ready. At least this way he was able to keep an eye on Harry, he had thought to himself.

As the final day of term approached Snape had found his thoughts straying more and more frequently to the Dursleys. Harry was due to return to them for the summer holidays, much to Severus' dismay. He had broached the subject several times with Dumbledore but the Headmaster had been reluctant to hear him out. Twice Albus had walked out on him claiming he had an urgent meeting to attend. The worst of it was that Severus had revealed everything he knew of Harry's home life to the man but still Albus refused to act. The man had certainly been furious to learn of it but any suggestion of removing Harry from the Dursleys care fell on death ears. For whatever reason Albus was adamant that the blood wards had to be retained.

It had been Harry's behaviour though that had finally forced Severus to act. He was not going to allow the boy to return to the Dursleys in his current state. He had said as much to Dumbledore that morning.

'_Albus, this is utterly ridiculous!' exclaimed Snape in fury. 'The boy is grieving. The worst possible thing you could do at this time is to send him back to that hellhole for two months! Isolating him at Privet Drive now is not going to help him. Poppy has told me he barely speaks to his friends, he spends his days in here reading silently or else wandering the grounds listlessly. He needs to speak to someone about this and until he does he must not return there.'_

_Albus had not seem perturbed by Severus' outburst instead he had remained quiet for a long time, studying Severus silently. Snape was beginning to regret his outburst, his throat raw from overuse as the silence dragged on. Eventually Albus had broken the silence, the shadow of a twinkle hidden within the piercing blue eyes._

'_Harry must return to Privet Drive to renew the wards Severus,' he had stated simply. 'He need only spend a week with his family but it is imperative that he recognise Privet Drive as his home.'_

Albus had left then, leaving a bewildered Severus to wonder just what had happened.

It was evening now and Severus paced restlessly around the small room. Poppy had allowed him out of bed earlier in the week, with strict instructions not to overexert himself. Severus had grudgingly followed her advice; only after realising he was still too weak to make a break for his own quarters. As he paced he continued to think over Albus' words. The man had given him an opening, he was sure of it. He just needed to come up with a plausible way to use it. His relentless pacing was beginning to catch up with him he realised. Wearily he seated himself in the bedside chair and within minutes he was asleep.

XXXX

Harry was alone in his dormitory. At his insistence a concerned Ron had finally left to attend the Leaving Feast. Harry had assured him that he would be down momentarily but he had no intention of attending. He did not think he could stand the looks and whispers if Dumbledore made mention of him in his end-of-term address.

Both Ron and Hermione had left the Hospital Wing, completely cured, three days earlier. Since then they had hardly let Harry out of their sight. He could tell Hermione wanted to discuss Sirius with him. Sometimes Harry thought he might just be able to but as soon as he tried to speak a lump would form in his throat, his chest would constrict and he would be unable to talk. It was those times that he was so very grateful he had Ron for a friend. Ron was always there, watching him silently. He'd see what Hermione sometimes missed and silently he'd place a hand on Hermione's own, gently warning her not to continue.

Eventually Harry had found respite in spending more and more time with Severus. The man himself was healing well, Madam Pomfrey assured him, but Harry could tell he was still in a lot of pain. Even just pushing himself up into a sitting position caused him to grip the bed sheets tightly. He hid it well but Harry noticed.

Harry rarely spoke whilst there, instead preferring to spend his time seated near the window either gazing out at the grounds or skimming through a text. He could tell Severus was concerned. The man was always watching him and once or twice Harry had caught him conversing in low murmurs with Madam Pomfrey. More and more frequently Severus had tried to get him to speak. He was cunning in the way he went about it but Harry always realised what he was doing and left before he could question him further. Even as he left he would wonder why he was running away. Harry desperately wanted to speak with Severus but he could not bring himself to broach the subject.

His thoughts were interrupted as his hand brushed against a badly wrapped brown package, lying at the bottom of his trunk. Unsure of what it was he pulled it out to examine it more closely. It was then that he realised what it was. It was the package Sirius had given him as he'd left Grimmauld Place at Christmas. He turned it over and clumsily unwrapped it.

A small, square mirror fell out, landing on his bed. Curious, Harry picked it up. Despite the dust covering it he could still see his reflection easily. Bizarrely it felt as though there was something attached to the back. Turning it over, Harry discovered the scribbled note. It was from Sirius.

_This is a two-way mirror, I've got the other one of the pair. If you need to speak to me, just say my name into it; you'll appear in my mirror and I'll be able to talk in yours. James and I used to use them when we were in separate detentions._

Harry felt as though he had been punched in the gut. All along he'd had a way to communicate directly with Sirius. Now more than ever he felt responsible for Sirius' death. If he had only remembered the mirror...Sirius would not be dead. He was so angry with himself that he lashed out at the wall, trying to release his anger but forgetting the mirror was still in his hand. The mirror shattered instantly, the glass driving itself deep into his hand. Harry did not even register the pain he was so horrified by what he had done.

The mirror had been his last link to Sirius; he hadn't even thought to try it he realised in dismay. Without hesitating he immediately gathered up all of the pieces, assembling the mirror roughly on the ground, sure that he was about to talk to Sirius again. It was only when he was still two pieces short that he realised they were embedded in his hand. Ignoring the pain he pulled them out swiftly placing them in their respective places. With a shaky hand he withdrew his wand from his inner pocket, oblivious to the blood dripping down his arm, and performed _Reparo_.

The mirror reformed instantly, and Harry let out a sigh of relief. Immediately he picked it up, ignoring his own reflection

'Sirius,' he called.

He was holding the mirror so close that his breath was fogging it up. Hastily he wiped his sleeve over it, ignoring the blood that had smeared across the surface.

'Sirius Black!' he tried again, the irritation evident in his voice.

The reflection did not change. His own face still stared back at him in frustration. _Sirius didn't have his mirror on him when he went through the archway, said a small voice in Harry's head. That's why it's not working..._

For one shining moment he had been convinced that he was going to see Sirius once again...to talk to him...to apologise for what had happened. Disappointment and anger coursed through him and he hurled the mirror back into the trunk, where it shattered. Immediately he piled the rest of his clothes and textbooks into the trunk, not caring that it was a mess and would not shut.

He stood breathing heavily before his trunk, the silence pressing down on him. He wasn't sure what time it was but he did not want to be here when the others returned from the feast. Leaving the dormitory he hurried out of Gryffindor Tower, ignoring the Fat Lady's admonishment that he was late for the feast. The corridors were silent and Harry walked on autopilot. Without really thinking about it he found himself outside the Hospital Wing. It was only now though that he realised it was Severus' company he wanted.

Silently he entered the deserted Wing. The lights were off in Madam Pomfrey's office but Harry was not surprised. Normally every staff member attended the Leaving Feast – even Professor Trelawney. Passing through into Snape's room he found the man sprawled in the bedside chair, asleep. Careful not to disturb him, Harry moved over to the window seat.

Harry jumped in surprise as a loud crack broke the silence in the room, a House Elf materialising before Snape. The sound was loud enough to wake Snape, who looked around blearily, instinctively reaching for his wand. He stopped though when he realised it was a House Elf that stood before him, carrying a tray. Instead Snape used his wand to light the room. Harry knew instantly that Severus had seen him but the man said nothing for the moment, instead looking expectantly towards the House Elf.

'Madam Pomfrey wishes for you to eat sir,' the timid creature said.

'Thank you,' Snape said gruffly taking the tray off the House Elf, which promptly disapparated.

With a slight groan Snape stood before silently conjuring two chairs and a small table. Placing the tray on the table he seated himself before gesturing for Harry to join him. Harry complied seating himself opposite Snape. As always the House Elves had outdone themselves, providing Severus with soup, bread and several salads.

'Have you eaten?' Snape asked quietly.

'I'm not hungry,' Harry mumbled tiredly.

'You need to eat Harry,' Snape said softly, pushing the tray towards Harry.

Harry knew the man would not leave him alone until he ate something and so reluctantly he lent forward, blindly selecting a piece of bread.

'Harry...' said Snape warily, standing suddenly.

Harry looked up in surprise at Snape's tone and watched as the man, frowning slightly, approached him.

'Show me your hand,' he said roughly, holding out his own expectantly.

Harry looked at him in confusion for a moment until he remembered he'd cut his hand on the mirror. Oddly it was only as he recalled the event that he realised his hand was really quite painful. Numbly he held it out for Snape to inspect.

'Harry...' he groaned in frustration before deftly pulling out his wand and setting to work on healing it.

The wounds had been quite deep Harry saw now, and dried blood caked his hand. Silently Snape summoned several bottles. One he upended over Harry's hand immediately, which stung painfully. The next two he gave to Harry to drink; a pain-reliever and an anti-inflammatory potion. Harry watched with morbid fascination as his skin stitched itself back together under Snape's guidance. Finally Snape was done. The man sat back down, fixing Harry with a weary gaze.

'I want you to eat something, and then we are going to talk,' he said calmly.

Snape's tone left no room for argument and so Harry turned his attention to the bread before him. He could manage only a few bites though, watched all the while by Snape. Harry noted with concern that Snape himself ate nothing. Finally Snape nodded, and with a wave of his wand vanished the meal back to the kitchens.

Harry stared blankly at the empty table, waiting patiently for Snape to speak.

'How did you injure your hand?' Snape finally asked.

Harry continued to stare at the table, aimlessly tracing patterns on the surface of the wood.

'Glass,' he began. 'The mirror broke, and I got glass in my hand.'

Snape frowned for a moment but he did not press Harry further.

'Why weren't you down in the Great Hall?' he asked instead.

Harry simply shrugged.

'Won't your friends wonder where you are?' Snape pressed.

Again Harry shrugged. Snape bit back a sigh of frustration.

'Why are you avoiding your friends Harry?' he asked bluntly, staring shrewdly at the boy.

Harry looked up incredulously at that.

'I'm not,' he spluttered in protest.

'Harry, I'm not blind,' Snape said calmly.

Snape's calm demeanour pushed Harry over the edge and suddenly he was standing, pacing before the man.

'You don't understand!' he said angrily, breathing heavily. 'I can't be friends with them...it's too dangerous! They don't know...I haven't told them...Dumbledore told me the prophecy!'

The words were wrenched from him but immediately he felt as though a great weight had been lifted from him. Exhausted he re-seated himself, avoiding Snape's gaze. For a long time Snape said nothing. Eventually Harry looked up. The man was staring at him, his face carefully blank but Harry could tell his words had shocked Snape. It was impossible to know what the man was thinking though.

Snape struggled to find something to say to Harry's admission. Dumbledore had never revealed the remainder of the prophecy to him – and Snape had never asked. He could not discuss the topic with Harry though, not while his role was still unknown. Yet he could not bring himself to reveal his greatest mistake...not yet.

'Prophecies are often mistaken,' he said instead, aware of how pathetic his explanation was.

'No,' Harry said flatly. 'There's no mistake.'

He paused for a moment.

'Voldemort chose to act without hearing the full Prophecy,' Harry continued. 'And by doing so he confirmed the Prophecy.'

Harry laughed suddenly at the irony of the situation.

'He marked me as his equal that night, without realising what he was doing. There's no mistake,' he repeated again.

The blood drained from Snape's face at Harry's words. The boy had no idea what he had just revealed.

'I wish he'd never heard the stupid thing in the first place,' Harry muttered, staring morosely at the floor.

Harry could not know how many times Severus had said the same thing. Had wished he'd never listened...never repeated the prophecy to the Dark Lord...never joined the Death Eaters...never called Lily a 'Mudblood'. Not for the first time he found himself wondering just when his life had become the mess it was.

'Are you alright Severus?' Harry asked, cutting in on his thoughts.

Snape looked up to meet the concerned green eyes. _How had he ever thought this boy arrogant? _

'You are so very like Lily,' he said in answer, his tone reminiscent.

Harry blinked in surprise.

'No one's ever told me that before,' Harry said solemnly before he grinned slightly. 'Are you sure you didn't hit your head sir?' he asked cheekily.

'Quite sure,' Snape answered dryly.

'It seems you're the one suffering amnesia now,' Harry continued cheerfully.

'What are you talking about Harry?' Snape asked, amused despite himself.

Harry was standing now, laughing slightly at Snape's confusion.

'Well,' he said seriously. 'It seems _you've_ forgotten I'm James Potter's son.'

Snape's expression of shock was so comical that Harry started laughing once again. The boy was right though, Snape thought shrewdly. He smirked at the teen before him, refusing to answer his question, which seemed to only amuse Harry further. Patiently Snape waited for Harry to calm down.

Harry tried to stop laughing unsure as to _why_ he was still laughing. He realised he hadn't laughed this hard since before Sirius had died.

_Sirius_.

The thought sobered him immediately; the laughter dying away. All the grief he'd felt since Sirius' death washed over him like a tidal wave. Slowly he sunk to the floor, utterly overwhelmed by his grief. It was then he realised he was crying. He had not allowed himself to cry for Sirius. Not once. Now though he could not stop himself. Silently the tears rolled down his cheeks.

XXXX

Snape watched as a pained look crossed Harry's face and suddenly the boy was no longer laughing. He looked utterly devastated. Slowly Harry sank to the ground and Snape watched as silently, tears spilled down the boy's cheeks. Snape was not surprised. Poppy had warned him days ago that Harry was suppressing his grief and to be aware that Harry might suddenly no longer be 'alright'.

Severus did not hesitate. Without having thought about it he found himself on the ground beside Harry. Ignoring his sore ribs he gently put his arm around the teenager, pulling him into a one-armed hug. He could not say how long they remained like that. Occasionally he'd run his hand through the boy's hair, mostly though he sat silently beside the boy – allowing him to deal with his grief. Simply being there seemed to be enough for Harry.

His own thoughts strayed once again to the conundrum Dumbledore had presented him with and the solution which had just occurred to him. He had realised it as he sat on the ground, comforting Harry, not caring that his shirt was steadily being soaked by the boy's tears. Slowly Harry's tears dried up, but still Severus did not move.

'I'm sorry,' Harry said suddenly, his voice hoarse.

Snape didn't say anything, except to tighten his hold slightly. As he calmed down Harry flushed slightly as he caught sight of the mess he'd made of Severus' shirt. He had never broken down in front of an adult like he just had.

'I've got to finish packing,' Harry said abruptly in embarrassment.

He expected Snape to let go but the man did not move.

'You don't have to go back to Privet Drive,' the man said quietly, although he sounded almost unsure.

Harry stared at him in surprise.

'What?' Harry spluttered, 'but the blood wards...Dumbledore said...'

'I'll have to finalise the finer details with the Headmaster,' Snape explained, sounding surer as he continued, 'but I do not think he will object. I wish you did not have to return at all but the Headmaster was adamant that the wards be maintained. To do so you need only spend a week with your relatives. As much as I dislike the notion Privet Drive _must_ remain your home.'

Harry sighed; he thought it had been too good to be true. Snape looked down at him, an odd look on his face.

'I do not think you are ready to return to Privet Drive just yet, nor do I think you should go alone,' Severus continued frankly.

Harry gaped at him in surprise, wondering if it meant what he thought it did.

'I want you to stay here at Hogwarts with me for the next few weeks and then when you're ready we'll both pay your Aunt and Uncle a visit.'

'Seriously?' Harry asked, not caring that he sounded childish.

'You should know by now Harry,' Severus mock chastised, 'that I never joke.'

_Besides Petunia and I have some unfinished business he thought to himself._

'Thank you,' Harry said seriously.

Tiredly Harry leaned back against Severus, his earlier desire to leave having vanished. Snape remained where he was; his own thoughts occupied as he considered what he would tell Albus. He was sure now though that it was the solution Albus had wanted him to reach. At one point Severus looked down to find that Harry had fallen asleep. It was the first time Snape had seen him so at ease since his godfather's death. Briefly he considered moving the boy onto the bed but he was too exhausted from the day's events to attempt it. Instead he remained where he was, summoning the pillows from his bed. Without disturbing Harry he managed to place them behind their backs. Even that small task had tired Snape though and within moment's he too had drifted off to sleep.

XXXX

That was how Poppy found them, almost an hour later. The messy-haired teenager sprawled comfortably against the usually stoic Potions Master. Poppy found herself smiling at how peaceful the pair looked. Whatever was coming, she was glad the two had sorted their differences.

XXXX

The End

XXXX

**A/N:** Well that's it for this story, but I can assure you that there will be a sequel. A few things to get through quickly though before I talk about that.

Thank you to everyone who left a review on this story. Whether it was a simple one liner or a lovely paragraph I enjoyed them all. Your feedback was immensely helpful! Special mention to Turn to Paige 97, Jordina and Dem Bones. You guys reviewed consistently and your insight into the story was absolutely brilliant to have.

One final request. It would be fantastic if I could hear from as many of you as possible on your thoughts of the story overall (not just this chapter). I will be replying to all reviews and I'm more than happy to answer any questions about the plot.

Alright. I regret to announce that I have exams coming up. As such I'm going to be taking a break from posting until the end of March. As soon as the mid-semester exams are done I'll be back to posting. 'You've Forgotten Who I Am' has been a massive project - standing at over 107,000 words. I want to make sure the sequel lives up to your expectations and so I'm going to take the time to extensively plan it out (as I did before I started this story). Plus I've yet to come up with a suitable title for the sequel :P

I hope to post the first chapter of the sequel by 1st April. This story will be marked as complete BUT should I post something here to alert you all to the sequel?

Finally, I hope you've all enjoyed this story as much as I have enjoyed bringing it to life. Until next time!


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